Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-12-14

 Blinded by the snow, he could sec nothing at first, but by and by he be came conscious of the cold hearth, the awful silence and that the little house was empty. It did not even hol6 $ corpse.
 The wearied man sank down upon z chair and gazed about him blankly, despairingly.
 The bed was neatly made, the floor swept, everything was placed in its usua, orderly fashion, and her dress hung upon the wall near him-the old browr calico she had worn the last time he had seen her.
 "Gone," he said, dazedly, gone"
 Just then one of the boys, who had felt strange misgivings and had fol. lowed him, entered.
 What did you say, Charlie? is she gone? Why, that couldn't be, she'c never be such a fool as to venture out in that storm. If she did-poor fellow, he's fainted!'
 It was some time before Charlie Dean revived; he was very weary, and the awtulness of what had been, through his neglect, quite overpowered him.
 There, you're better, now" said his friend What do you think could have caused her to leave the house, and where did she go?"
 II don't know, unless to the stable. had left a little corn there"
 "CharlieI" said his friend, sternlv. you never left your wife in such a condition?"
 But Charlie only nodded.
 II expected to be home, you know but don't look at me like that. I'm punished enough. She's dead some. where under the snow. my poor little Clarew
 They failed to find her; no corn was missing, it is true, but they found nothing to so much as point the way whither she had gone.
 Charlie Dean was a changed man once moro. To his boon com mpanions he said good. by. and many of them never forgot the silent pain in his eye, the anguish that his whole face expressed.
 Its not going to kill him." said the friend who had been watching him to sec that he did nothing rash. "No, it's going to mako such man out of him as we never dreamed of; the one thing that now has possession of him is work, in order that he may forget. It's 8 good medicine. I think I'll try some myself"
 Three years later, well-to-do, with money to spare, for none of it was ever squandered now, Charlie Dean once more sought the far away city where he had first met and won his wife.
 strange longing came over him to once more see that place, and travel stained and bronzed, he walked by the house, almost expecting to hear her touch upon the piano, and the sound of her sweet voice.
 Bewildered, amazed, half believing himself out of his head, he did hear her voice once more.
 ''There's man drunk leaning on the fence," he heard 8 strange voice ex- claim.
 Then the playing ceased, and a voice that almost caused him to faint sec ond time replied:
 Drunken men are only too common. Let him alone; some policeman will be along presently"
 Then the music struck up again, this time into wild galop as if the players thoughts were running away with her.
 But he's still there," continued the strange voice. He's peculiar looking; do look out, Clare. l declare I feel nervous"
 Charlie stood up squarely now. pushed his hat back slightly and looked full and straight into the eyes of his wife.
 She fell back with cry, the place was empty, and scarcely knowing what he did Charlie was turning away when some one came flying down those steps and-and, yes, had her hand in his, and in a fearful voice was saying: ''Char- lie, oh! Charlie! You've come at last,"
 II want to know" he said, when in the cozy parlor, still clinging to her hand, "I want to know how you got away from the ranch during that awful storm"
 Clare flushed but answered unhesi- tatingly:
 II was good walker. I felt no fear of the storm. You had left me almost nothing to eat, and really thought I should lose my mind if remained there many more days all alone.
 II took the little money I still pos- Sessed, and started soon after you did only went in an opposite direction. I had scarcely reached the main trail when two-horse wagon came dashing up, the man-a stranger, but God bless him. for he saved my life-jumped out and snatched me up before could say by your leave and away we tore like mad The horses were very strong and swift, and we seemed to outride the storm. We reached shelter at last, just before it's fury broke, and I thanked him as best I could; then, when the roads were clear, I started for my old home, but had to stop and work awhile before got here. Aunt has never heard all the story; couldn't talk of some things"
 II thought you dead" said Charlie. eff you could know how have suf- fered. Oh, Clare, don't suppose you could forgive"
 "I forgave you long ago. was some to blame. ought to have tried to have been happier; wrote to your old home, but they told me you had gone ava, j."
 Shall we begin over, Clara-for when you were gone found out how I loved you"
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