The Press., 1892-01-28

 dreaded to know.
 was standing at the school entrance with my hand on the. bell when I heard a door in the next house open and then shut. From that moment could feel that Julia was near me. She came out of the house slender, graceful girl of nineteen, and picking up croquet mal- let commented to knock the balA about I wanted to make myself known, but dreaded tie horror with whichshe would regard me when she should know who I was.
 II beg pardon" said, raising my hat, ''can you tell me if the school is still there?' pointing to the house.
 "It was moved some years ago." she replied, regarding me with the old hon. est gaze. ....s.- .... :
 II was one of the scholars" ....
 "Indeedr' She spoke without any further encouragement for me to go on.
 II see the wood has not been cut away" added, glancing toward it.
 ''No, it does not seem to be-"
 'Were you ever there?" .....
 ''Oh, yes, often" r.-.
 Auu IS tnaC Olu uttIu SClAl aCrOSS Gne river?''
 II believe it is."
 "Were you ever on the dam?'
 She looked at me curiously. I went on without waiting for reply:
 "Woufd you mind showing me the way to it? It is a long while since was there.''
 She drew herself up with slight hauteur. Then thinking that perhaps I ways of civilized life, she said pleas antly: ..r. te4
 "You have only to walk through the wood straight back of the house and you will come to it."
 'sThank you," I replied, ''but hoped you would show me the way"
 She looked puzzled.
 "Miss Julia" said, altering my tone, II once met you when was a boy here at school" =.
 II knew number of the scholars" she said, more interested; "who may you be?' Al. '-.~-''-'' -,.e 7
 I dreaded to tell her. ''f you will pilot mo to the dam," said, "I will in- form you"
 She thought moment, then turned and looked out at the wood. With the quick motion with which she had made the same move as & child she started for MaEe6l. ---~---4- ..-----. e....s4s
 We walked side by side to sase woed1 through it and out on the river bank. There was the water and the dam; everything as 1t had been.,
 "Did you ever try to walk out there?' asked.
 "Once, when I was child, came here with boy, and we walked to where the water pours over. met with an accident. fell in."
 '"The boy overpersuaded you, I sup pose?"
 It was difficult for me to conceal cer- tain trepidation ut the mention of my fault. .%
 "No, went of my own accord"
 "He certainly must have been to blame. He was older and stronger than you"
 "On the contrary" she said, with a slight rising irritation, "he jumped after me like the noble little fellow that he was."
 Iturned away on pretense of examin- ing boat down the river.
 ..At any rate. he must have begged your forgiveness on his pended knees for permitting you to go, into such 8 danger 7
 q never saw him again. He went away"
 I fancied--at least hoped-I could detect tinge of sadness in her voice.
 '.I have often wished" she went on, ''that he would come back, as the other scholars something's. do, as you are now, and let me tell nm how much I thank him for his noble effort
 "Julia,'' said. suddenly turning and facing her, ''this is too much. am that boy. I led you into the wood. forced you to go out on the dam with me. I permitted you to fall in."
 And more than atoned for all by risk ing your life to save mel"
 An, that look of surprised delight which accompanied her wordsi It was worth all my past years of suffering, of fancied blame; for init read how dearly she held the memory of the boy who had at least shared the danger for which he was responsible.
 I do not remember if she grasped my hand or I grasped hers. At any rate we stood hand in hand looking into each others faces.
 I blessed the Providence that ended my punishment; blessed the good for tune that had led me to g knowledge of the kindly heart beside me. Of all the moments of my life I still count it far the happiest.
 Then we walked back through the woods, over the intervening field, and stood together leaning against the fence between the old school and her home.
 We did not part after that for another ten years. Then she left me to go whence can never recall her.. Yet there isa trysting place in the woods, through which we once passed as chill dren, and often afterward as lovers. There I watch the fiecked sunlight and mark the silence; and 1t seems to me that | can 'shear 1t be still. More than that, I know the pure soul looks at me through the honest eyes.- -F. A. Mitchell.
 sOh speak ye ghosts of the dead, and say what killed you ?' The answer came, borne on the fierce east wind: ssCold l! cold! cold!" Then let us be thankful that since then, we have pr. Bulls Cough N <