The Dickinson press., 1892-01-30

the warmth ana colorleit my face. wn,te.
amazed, 1 stood as though my ieet were
rooted to the ground. What was it?
Coming slowly toward me. yet not seeing
me, buried in thought, the sunshine
telling on his bowed wed i head ;daa t vas
was he? 1.-THE sun shonein heaven, If I was
sane, that wa Mark-Mark, Tor whom l
he'd wept as dead-my handsome, true,
dear lover come back to me! 1tried to ut
ter his name, but the sound died on my
lips. l tried to nov toward him; l could
not stir. He was coming nearer. All. yes,
it was Mark! oh, my heartl I could have
died: l saw the strong dear hands that
had held my own; l saw the dark lace,
older and sadder than when We had parted,
l saw the loving eyes, full now of wistful
sadness.
He was not dead then, but living and
we'll! He had been to Gracedieu in search
ofme, and the rector, with whom l had
had been to the house to ask for me, and
theservants hadtold him that l was out in
the park.
He would explain his long cruel absence.
He had come back to me-; he was true, and
loyal; he had come to make me his wife;
and Lob, Heaven, l should be happy at
last!
He was nearer to me now. Igrasped the
low branch offs tree to keep myself from
falling. I called to Heaven to give me
strength. My heart beat madly, my brain
burned, my senses seemed almost to have
LETT me. saw only him, and as he came
to the trees where l was standing l cried
MARK, Mark!"
I was mad-Heaven forgive me!-quite
mod NV pSnfha~ hnl ru,n~,n $3.50 49, a.
make an IDIOT of any creature; and here I
was on my knees before this idol that /
had made for myself. / kissed his hands,
sobbing the while as though my heart
would break. tears raining from my eyes.
l could only cry
"Mark, Heaven has sent you back to mel
Oh. my love, how l love you'll"
He raised me in his arms. Once again
the strong clasp held me; once again the
arms of my true love were around me.
Would to Heaven the angel of death had
smitten me as l lay there!
! heard him cry, "Nell! Is it you, Mel.
lie?" and the sound of the dearly-loved
voice drove me mad again. I chung to him
and kissed him with all anguish OF passion
known only to those who love as l loved.
o BE CONTINUED.
Apologized.
DIR. John Bratwell, a well-known
physician, and a friend we're standing
at a hotel bar drinking, when a big
fellow strobe up to the bar and called
for brandy. The doctor looked at
him, and with the like or dislike quail
ty which whisky inspires, suddenly
conceived the idea that the big fellow
was not to be tolerated.
"Get out of my way" the doctor
demanded.
"Not in your way"
"You're a liar"
"Well, little fellow, I admire your
nerve. If l didn't you'd have some
fun"
"You car have all the fun you can
get out of me, you big buffer"
The DOCTORS friend hurried him
away, and when they were outside,
said:
Gracious alive, I thought you were
going to get it."
"Why so?"
Don't you know that big fellow2"
"No, who is he?"
"Why, that's Alexson, the celebrat-
ed slugger."
"The deuce you say. will go back
and apologize"
"No, come on"
But he did not come on. He went
back and began to apologize. "Little
fool" said the celebrated slugger.
Gust now l thought you knew me
and l had put you down as dead
game and l had respect for you, but
now | believe I'll swipe you one" and
he did. The doctor was taken home
in a hack.-Arkansaw Traveller.