Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1893-03-14

bs soured and turn cynic, and perhaps
rhuckle that others were equalised with
him by suffering. he simply, and - II
II were o matter Of course, gives himself
to bsfiing sorrow and blight It isGod.
like" And Hooked with renewed sd-
miration at the strange figure climbing
the stairs before me.
He was all head and shoulders, and
his motions were like . clumsy child's.
went slowly after him. Was It true
that this long iove-chase over Land and
sea was at It's endingi Was this grim
dwarf to be conjurer Of happinessi
Psdiham tapped at . door In the upper
story.
A voice said, "Come In"
Her voicel That sweet. sad voicel
That unmurmuring, unrebellious voice!
That voice of gentle defiance. speaking
soul impregnablel How full Of calm
hopefulness! while yet could detect Ia
It the power Of bursting into all the hor.
ror of that dread scream that had come
through the stiffness to our camp at
Fort Bridger.
The dwarf opened the door quietly.
The sunshine Of that fresh June morn.
ing lay bright upon the roses In the win.
dow. Mr.. Clitheroe was sitting up In
bed. lifting q tescup with his left hand.
His long, white beard drifted over the
cool bedclothes. An appetizing break.
fast, neatly served, was upon table be.
side him, and there In this safe haven,
lowering about him tenderly as ever In
the days of his errant voyaging In the
hapless time gone by, was his minister.
ing angel. that dear daughter. the sister
Of my choice.
She turned as we entered.
The old. steady. faithful look In the
gray eyes. The same pale, saddened
beauty. The unblenching gaze OF patient
waiting.
She looked ut me vaguely, while life
paused one pulse. Then, rs ! stepped
forward. the eloquent blood gushed into
her face-for she knew that the friend
could not long outrun the lover. She
sprang into my arms. Forgive me, John
Brent. IL / did put my lips close to her
burning cheek. II was only to whisper,
"He Is In London searching for you. He
has never rested one moment since you
were lost to us. In an hour he will be
here"
There is o hanson cab horse, now or
late Of London. who must remember me
with asperity.
But then there Ia o cabman who Is my
friend for life, II o giant fare can win u
cabman's heart.
BY the side OF the remembrance OF
my gallop down Luggernel alley have
q picture In my mind Of myself. In a
cab cutting furiously through the can.
yons Of London in chase Of lover. The
wolves and coyotes Of the by streets
there are no antelopes In London-did
not attempt to follow our headlong
speed. We ratified across Westminster
bridge, up Whitehall, and SO into May
Fair to Lady Biddulph's door.
The footinan-why did he grin when
he saw mey-recognized me as the fam.
lily friend Of yesterday, and ushered me
without ceremony into the breakfast
room. where the family were all assem-.
bled.
Why did the footman grin! ! per.
ceiyed. rs / entered. A mirror fronted
me. Ny face was like SiouKs In his
war paint. There had been flies In Padi.
hams shop, and I had brushed them
away from my face, alas! with hands
blackened over the lathe.
All looked up amazed at this truculent
intruder. II was:
"Enter Orlando. with his sword
drawn"
"Forbear, and eat no more!"
An injunction not necessary for poor
Brent, who sat dreary and listless.
The rest forbore ut my appsrition.
Egg spoon paused at eggs mouth. Sugar
sank to the floor Of coffee cup. Toast
silenced Its crackle.
Brent recognized me In the griiny
pirate before him.
He sprang to his feet. "You have
found her!" cried he.
| "Yes."
He looked ut me eagerly.
"well and happy" said; "in a safe
haven with faithful friend. Lady
Biddulph will pardon me, bringing such
tidings, for rushing In in my war paint,
American fashion"
"You are always welcome, Mr.. Wade,
In what costume you please" said she.
"Doubly so with this happy news. Ny
dear Ellen! must see her ut once-as
soon as closer friends have had their
hour. But. Mr.. Brent, you are not go
ing without your breskfastr
Everybody smiled.