Evening journal., 1892-11-02

sensation of unreality possessing her, as
If, sha thought, She had died, and this
was her ghost SO this was the end of
itl of all that happiness which it had
seemed they would take with them into
eternityl Donald had tired Of her. Who
could say when the subtle change had
taken place, or for how long he had been
deceiving her with sweet. plausible |
wordsg But 1t is vain to attempt TO |
keep a secret from one that has right |
90 know il, said Emerson. ut viii tell |
itself. Il was her right to know this
and his secret had been revealed 90 her
She seemed 10 awake with a sort of stu
rid surprise. 90 find herself mechanically
exchanging smiling greetings with some
passing friends. and presently where a
niUe child was crying. she stopped aud
poled "a Glove FISHING lost Toy out cd
ihe irii eating ditch. noting curiOualy
how her honl sim trcmbled On she
went in sofi ol hroathlcss haste that
lmcly took her away from the town
and at icurth She turned aside from ihr
road across pieco of dry ground
br llipg with cactus and oapwecd. and
Mmlossiy wandered on 20 ihc railroad
track. almost hidden between is borders
af rsnksnaf1wers.
tl m0sf zoe away hy myself and
.hmk.' she m1rerel Nobody would
meet hor howe a httl0 way and lhe
track crossed iha creek here rushing ir
% myriad oi lonming waterfalls lar he
ow ts high banks. Midway across lhe
open trestle work anita stopped. gazing
| thoughtfully down at the murky torrent
below, "A dirty white from the gulch
mining that was torturing the stream
rroil its bed up the canyon What If
one should trip and fallg 1t would be-
sasy-pol1ing one foot between the ties
and catching her boot heel experimental
ly-an accident which might happen 90
| ANYBODY The water was not deep, but
the current was strong; and surely such
a fall would kin at once. One would be-
carried on down the stream as lightly
and indiffereptly as that bit Of chip
dancing along there-dead to all pain Of
earth.
How shocked people would be should
such an accident befall herl And how
they would hurry 10 snatch Donald from
his Jolly time with Mrs. Rogers to look
his last upon the poor dead face which
once had been the loveliestof all on earth
to him, for he had loved herl Nothing
could rob her of the sweetness Of believ-
ing that. And in the last sad moment,
when he came to press his farewell upon
the stiff lips that never again would
tremble with the Joy Of his touch, if only
in pity for her the old feeling must
spring remorsefully TO life again for the
time. But stayl She would be bruised
by the fall, perhaps blotched and stained
beyond recognition, and Donald liked
women to look sweet and fair. 1t would
not do to have his last look at her like
that. But there was a strange fascina
ton in this thought Of death. What
other escape did earth offer from its bur
dens Of pain?
Beyond the bridge. she climbed the
steep gravely bank Of the railroad L
look across at the small bare cemetery
on the southern mesa. The poorest lanC
had been given to Gods acre, its scantl
crop of buffalo grass sere and brown
from insufficient irrigation, a whit
picket fence dividing il from the road II
. front, its remaining sides defined will
barbed wire A few cows had stolel
into the inclosure and were compla
Gently nipping at the scantily clothel
sod. And what was that small shape
scarce distinguishable from the hue O
/, the ground, ithely slipping under th
fence. and scurrying up the steep hill
side? Anita watched the shifting bio
3 with horror stricken eyes. She ha
7 heard of the coyotes that sometime
came ravenously burrowing down int
new made graves. Yet what did
matter? Those who slept over on tn
, mesa yonder would not be troubled how
! ever the ground were scratched aboy
their heads. This was Nirvana;
Nameless quiet. nameloss JOY,
p Blessed Nirvana-ainless stirless rest
8 The change that never changes.
b Suddenly she started back with n ge
ture Of despair, her hand instinctiyel
e moving in the sign Of the cross that ha
been her childhood's charm against evi
e All the training of her life had been il
exorable as to the duty of living III,
D. mothers creed had made it mortal 81
/. to wish for death; and however little III
l. orthodoxy Of her aunts had to make III
e the more joyous in the living, it at len!
" did what it might TO inspire a wholesou
/. patience under life's ills, with the awil
I. alternative of its hell God forgive an
d help herl wildly stretching ont implo
n ing hands toward the grim old moul
Is tains, as it seemed TO her, like prise
walls to which she was helpless
D. chained Must she live on and on
At this environment which seemed pres
4, ing her down, on and ON. while the Ion
10 colorless DAYS rolled themselves away
b. years, till her fair hands had grown
7, brown and shriveled with age rs Il
v dried leaf she idly picked mp. the po,
Il little hands-stretching them out an
v studying them with whimsical sadness
NJ that must be empty Cf happiness alway
M when once il seemed they had more tina
,e they could hold A great wave of hom