The Bottineau pioneer. (Bottineau, N.D.) 1885-1895, 1893-11-25
DAWN.

~~A(A~AAA~ 0AAN ~ 0ONAAW00N
saddened, brutal men have supplied
themselves with despair, and have died
without a word; towards have shrek
ed and raved; good men have prayed;
while l.
Strange stories are told Of the last
night spent by those condemned to die
on the morrow. Sometimes q stlpor
Of despair comes over the criminal-a
stupor from which nothing can rouse
him-and he dies; or, beWildered, q
frantic madness seizes him. Men. who
have to die at eight in the morning
have been known, in q paroxysm Of
this madness, to almost kill the man
who watched them. In this cell due
precaution has been taken; there is q
portion of it enclosed within an iron
railing, which has no outlet into the
cell. II the warder wants to get near
the prisoner, he must 20 out Of his
OWL door and re-enter the cell by the
door that belongs to it. The railed-on
portion looks like an immense iron
cage. The warder's bed 10 inside it.
I have heard OF frantic men clutch
ing those bars, with shrieks that have
made the blood run cold ip the veins
of those who heard. I shall try to die
calmly; but I know that I shall be
most terribly afraid.
Faster now and faster the light
creeps along the wall. Oh, for one face
to smile on me, for one hand to touch
me, for M word Of comfort! I climb
to the window and watch the blue sky.
What mystery lies beyond 1t?
There is just a breath Of the sweet
summer air. I lay my tired head
against the cold stone wall, and shut
my eyes; then-ah! then I am in the
old garden home, where the roses are
growing, and sweet old-fashioned flow
ers are full Of perfume. The blossoms
fall from the lime-trees, the bees are
busy with the carnations, the butter
flies WOO the lilies, the golden sun
light lies over all. A bird, with bright
eyes and smooth plumage, sings on a
Dough Of white pear-blossom. Oh, dear
and gracious heaven, how fair 1t 10.
this warm, sunlit, fragrant world.
I watch the swallows on the caves;
! watch the blue-and-White pigeons cir
Gle in the air. My heart grows light
and gay with all his loneliness around
me, yet there Is n feeling Of some i'm.
pending dread. I hear the wood-plg-
ZOE and the shout Of children at play.
1 can see the gray church-spire, and a
voice calls, "Hyacinth, where are your"
Il am here, father" I answer in my
dream; and I e my father walk down
the broad path bordered by white lilies.
A sudden sense Of security and free
dom from all danger warns my heart.
I throw my arms around him, and
then, with q deadly chill, with a ter
rible horror, with mortal dread, with
keenest anguish, I awake. All, dear
heaven, it was but a dream! I am
miles away from the garden home,
and I have looked my last on my faith
ers face.
1t was only a dream. My head lay
On the stone wall, one sunbeam touch
ed my face; yet SO vivid had been the
dream that the odor of the lilies SEEM
ed to be around me.
I cannot cry. My eyes burn, my
heart swells, oil my tears have been
dried long since; but a great sob comes
from my lips. Oh, If I could but es-
cape through the narrow window, were
I only to fall dead on the ground be-
meath! Ny dream has unnerved me;
the song Of the bird on the pear tree
is with me still. l hear the low rip
pie Of the little brook over the pebbles;
I hear the soft, sweet chime of the
church bells; I know just now that the
sunlight lies on the hills, that the hay
makers are leaving work; that the
children are wandering through the
woods; that the birds are calling to
each other; that the COWS are return
ing from the meadow; that the sun Is
beginning to set amid a great mass of
crimson clouds; that the wind is whis-
pering, and the trees stir their great
branches in languid answer
Never again will sun set, or birds
sing, or flowers bloom for me Never
again Will the reapers, passing me in
the green lane, greet me cheerily. All
sweet sounds Of earth have ceased for
me.
If I could but stop the changing
light! 1t Is on the right side now, and
It is growing fainter. A cold horrible
shudder comes over me, my limbs
tremble, an u~nutterable anguish burns
my very soul. I give one long, linger-
ing look at the blue sky. Shall I see
it tomorrow when they take me out
shame stricken to die before the eyes
Of thousands? Shall I notice either the
SKY OF tue SuuAlSuI IAcA-A WIN nave
loved them all my life?
Then comes another pause. I dream
again. This time I m standing in the
ch~urch-yard at home, with q group of
laughing girls around me. The great
oak trees and the stately elms line the
path that leads to the church, great
tendrils of ivy reach the ground, birds
sing gayly in the heart Of the green
trees, the bells are ringing merrily. I
stand there laughing as gayly as any
Of them. Near us Is a large white 1adr-
BILE cross, with crimson roses growing
over It; on that cross I read my moth
er's name. Suddenly n Of the girls
turns to me and says, Il do not see
your g~ravestone here" Another an
swers, "No-Hyacinth Vane was buried
in INVERSION jail" And they all fall
back from me with a terrible cry.
1 wake with great drops OF anguish
on my face. While I have slept the
light has grown dim and the sun has
set. >
The light men love 50 well and call
the gloaming has set in; strange shad-
ows lie ID the corners Of my cell,
strange sounds fill my ears; every Few
moments a curious sensation comes
over me, q loss OF memory and . con-
fusion OF thought. Only<I fancy that
the face I love best On earth Is smiling
into mine;tI fancy I am kneeling, with
my head on my lovers breast and his
dear arms around me. I forgive him,
my. dear love, whose disl0yalty has
brouehr me mere. I forgive him, and
love him with all my heart as ! always
have. But, when my senses return TO
me, my head lies on. no lovers breast:
i have. fallen upon tie stone door, and
have barely strength TO rise.
Ah. my love, / shall never more
know the clasp Of your hands! I said
hard words. cruel and bitter. In my