Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1892-10-13
HIS F'LEE7ING IDEAL.
The Great Composite Novel.
XII.-CONCLUSION.
By BILL NYE. Illustrated by W. q.
SPRAGUE.
Copyright. All rights reserved.l

plains no sound disturbed the night save
now and then when at long intervals the
shadowy figure of coyote crossed an
aisle in the sage brush, and opening his
swapping, drooling jaws gave forth that
justly celebrated dietonic scale of his
which is so well calculated to call out
the goose pimples even on the death
mask of Methuselah.
Even the wind trod softly over the
scorched and withered grass, and the
well fabricated moon stole in and out
among the clouds without creak, with
the exception of Bitter creek, of course,
which laved its alkali shores in the eter-
nal solitudes, and bleached still whittier,
as the years went by, the snowy bones
of those who once had sought to invade
this great undertaking establishment of
nature-this petrifed hush of centuries.
But what sound is this that gently
beats upon the tense drum of the listen
er's ear?
The distant jar and gentle palpitations
of a coming train from the west
Scarcely do we hear this and catch the
yellow twinkle of headlight when an
other muffied roar from the east and
little crawling light growing rapidly out
of the dusk and distance swallow the
intervening miles, and in flash the two
screaming, snorting, painting monsters
have met like mail clad giants in a
mighty tournament.
Come to the bridal chamber, Deathl
Come to the mother when she feels
For the first time her first born's breath;
Come when the blessed seals
Which close the pestilence are broke,
And crowded cities wall its stroke.
Come in Consumption's ghastly form!
The earthquakes Shock the oceans storm;
Come when the heart beats high and warm
With banquet, song and dance and wine
And thou art terrible. The tear,
The groan, the knell, the pail, the bier.
And all we know or dream or fear
OF agony art thine.
But to the heart where love is dead
And hope is kneeling DER its bier,
Thy face with joy is overspread,
And SO lights out with bounding tread
The soul that only sorrowed here.
When Lena awoke with this dull pain
In her head she felt certain that she was
dead, and was almost tickled to death to
think that her sad heart would sorrow
no more and that Harry was free; but
almost at once came the smell of hot
varnish and the slight suspicion of an
overdone porter who ought to be turned
over.
"Great Gawd," she said, as her breath
came in brief pants, "the car is on fire.
must go away"
To a spectator who might have seen
the collision it would have seemed i'm
possible that a living thing could come
out of this terrible wreck and holocaust
but ere long a venerable apple worm
crawled out of the cool side of a nice
eating apple, and seeing that he could
be of no further use on board the train,
came out of the car and skunk away in
the darkness.
Soon the cheerful car stove begins to
get in its work, and the chaos of broken
woodwork begins to burn, at first slow
ly, then, as the swift winds of the
plains catch it, the red blaze leaps out
and greets the frightened night with a
cackling laugh
To go back to Mr.. Crawford, at Chi
,cago, with the author is but the work of
an instant.