Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1892-09-17
Then another whistle.

1
Here, wake up
"Wha-what,' drawled the sleepy fellow.
"A dead man. that's ALL shouted Farmer
Dean in his ear
Jake sprang to his feet as though he were
shot.
Where? SasEa2,' he cried, wildly.
One look was sufficient.
Carefully the now wide-awake Jake and
Farmer Dean lifted up the inanimate form and
placed it among the vegetables in the wagon.
they went past the lonesome little station to
I one Of the broad white farmhouses that lay
scattered about the fertile valley.
Then Jake rode post haste after doctor. The
injured man put to bed, and Mollie. Farmer
Deans delicate daughter. who looked as if a
watt her frail form afar off, gently bathed the
blood from the poor wounded forehead, and
snoothed the shapely white hand. now restless
with fever. The doctor came again and again.
The naturally strong constitution bore up nobly
under the terrible strain, and in early Septem-
Der Lyle Dernott came out of his room and
sat down in Farmer Deans sitting room a well
man.
Mollie was sewing when he seated himself
beside her. and she raised her eyes timidly
to his. while her pale cheek flushed a delicate
pink.
lit seems nice to have you WELL" she said.
/ ut does to me. he replied heartily, land
under God owe my recovery to your father
and you.''
/ Mollie's eyes grew wide with wonder.
DO you think ii so strange that we cared
for you? Do Won think my father would let u
fellow creature lie in the road hurt you we're.
and not bring him to his home? Fathers ways
are rough sometimes, but his heart is very kind
and good"
The maiden's ewes were tender with unshed
tears she paid this tribute oher father"
Your father is of Gods noblemen,"
said Dermott
Then puzzled look overspread his face.
''Mollie, said he, ''were there any papers
about my BODY when your father found me-
NO; everything had been taken"
Have ssid anything to give you clue to
nv identity
No"
Again the same puzzled look came into his
eyes.
do you know he said, that 1 have for
gotten all my life, previous TO that unfortunate
night?'
The girl opened her eyes in amazement.
at is true" he said sadly do not know
how / came here, where belong, what my
business was. | think my name is Perry; at
any rate that will have to do for me, for all my
past is blank
Never mind" said the girl gently, perhaps
1t will come to you some time.
Perhaps" he assented, doubtfully, and so
the matter rested.
As George Perry-the first name that had
TO the country people round about.
Farmer Dean grew to be like a father to the
young man, and MOllie, though not a sister.
was perhaps dearer than a sister could be. He
secured a good position in the Office of manu-
featuring concern in Beetown, but his home was
with the Deans. So the long winter wore
away and the pleasant days of early summer
filed the earth again with sunshine and glad
ness. Perry, as we know him now, grew strong
and healthy, and filled his position of trust with
satisfaction to his employers. His head
perfectly level, but the past was blank and
occasionally the mystifed expression rose from
the depths of his gray eyes.
At about this time he became aware that
Mollie Dean regarded him with tenderer feel
ings than mere friendly regard.
He noticed, too, another thing about her.
She was a frail flower and already that New
England disease, consumption. had marked
her Young life as prey to its rapacity, as the
hectic bloom on her fair cheek testified.
He loved her.
She was gentle. she had been SO much to
him when he needed help that he could not
help loving her, and IL panied him deeply to
see her droop as she did sometimes in the
trying spring days.
So one night in early June, when she was
walking among the old-fashioned flowers, he
joined her and told her the old, old story, SO
sweet to youthful hearts.
81 love you"
She had spoken the low words that linked her
future with his and lovingly trustingly given
her heart into his keeping
II cannot tell yen anything Of my past, DEAR"
he said, as held her soft hand in his. Il wish
1 could But II Is a poor nameless wanderer,
with no past. you have taken for better or
worse"
'You have a future" she whispered. hope
fully, 'and will share it fer little while. at
least. l do not care what lies buried in that
forgotten past. dear. Surely if you cannot re-
a har Epn L.
God grant it, he said. Then in little
while he spoke to her again, in the tender ca
ressing way he had always used toward her
Come, You must go in now; the night air is
damp. will stay out for one cigar and then
go to bed; but you, dear-this air is too cool for
you"
Yes, / will CO." she answered him, ''but
there Is one thing want to say to you before
CO." and she stopped in the path close by his
side. If l die-sometimes have thought 1
should not live to be very old-but if 1 should
die. dear, say you will never forget me. Oh,
could not bear 70 be forgotten"
There was pitiful earnestness in the tremu-
lous voice and the childish blue eyes.
'.Mollie, darling, don't talk so; you pain me-"
and his eyes grew very grave.
The maiden stopped and picked a rose,
blush rose. from bush near by. then she looked
up at him with laughing eyes from which the
sadness had vanished
Goodnight, dear love-" she said. as she
turned to leave him: then threw the rose gently
at him, from over her shoulder, and ran into
the house.
He stopped to pick it up, but it fell to pieces
beneath his touch and its petals were scattered
10 the evening winds. while a faint perfume
assembled from the heart of the diving flower
When he rose to his feet his face bore the ashy
paleness of death, the cold damp of almost I'M
bearable anguish started out on his forehead
and he leaned against the fence near by for sup