Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1894-02-08


For Maria was betrothed, and Har-
ris did not know it; nor did he know
that the day was set on which she
and Angelo Rossi, with their respect
I've parents and collective friends,
were to 60 to Haxleton to purchase
nine yards of purple cashmere, with
q sufficient quantity OF red velvet and
silver and gold passementerie, calcu-
lated to make wedding gown that
would be the envy of the settlement.
Angelo worked on the might shift, !"
and earned dollar and a quarter a
day. 1t was a good match, and,
besides, her fiance's nocturnal occu-
patton gave Maria Aer evenings to
herself.
It was after seven o'clock, one
sweet, still evening in June, when
Maria stole along behind the engine
house and through a tongue of swamp
land, where the naked tree-trunks
lifted their knotty branches from the
oily, sulphurous ooze that had dried
the sap in their veins and had reduced
them to weird skeleton frames.
She sat down YEARLY on a tree-stump
at the edge of the swamp. Dark
against the sun-stained glory of the
west rose the black ridge of an i'm
mense culm-heap, and on it's crest,
silhouetted against the glowing sky,
was the dark figure of car, with
mule and driver. Maria looked at the
scene listlessly. The driver-boy stoop-
ed, pulled a bolt and the carload of
refuse slate rolled, grinding down the
slope. One big piece of rock bounded
farther than the others, and fell at
last with "chug," on the treacher-
Gus, shifting sand Of the swamp, and
the Shiny surface closed over it with
o grin.
'Buon' notte, Maria miav" called
a CHEEKY voice at her side.
The girls listlessness was gone at
once. She turned to Harris quickly
with a warning gesture, and he
stopped short distance away, stand
ing, erect and good to see, on little
hummock in the swamp. She had
risen to her feet, and was standing
facing him on the projecting root Of
fallen tree. They were separated
by shallow stream of black water
flowing sluggishly over the quick
sand. She began to speak at once.
"You must come with me-" she
said; and then, before he had time to
question, she plunged into her story,
speaking rapidly, but in sclear, low
tones. She told him of her betrothal
to Angelo Rossi; she told him how
tomorrow was the appointed day for
the purchase of the purple gown with
its glittering accessories; how their
secret could no longer be kept; how
Angelo was beginning to suspect;
how she hated him, and how she
loved Harris more than all the world,
more than the purple gown an t were
of finest silk and decked with rubies.
Then she disclosed her plan. So
childlike and confident she was that
Harris could not interrupt her. She
showed him the contents of a bundle
she had under her shawl. 1t was a
parcel of belongings she had taken
from his room, innocently gleeful at
the thought of how she had collected
them without the knowledge of Mrs.
Dwyer The bundle was done up in
towel and showed evidences of
haste and inexperience on the part Of
the compiler. There were a pair of
overshoes, ahandkerchief-case of pale
blue silk, two white lawn ties, bot
tie OF bromo-caffeine, tumbler of
blue glass, enveloped in net Of yell
low crochet-work with bows of pink
daisy ribbon" and intended by
Mrs. Dwyer for the reception Of
burnt matches. There were also two
oranges, clay pipe and a copy Of
Edwin Brood
Harris stood like statue on the
hummock.
Maria went on with her story,
speaking low and eagerly. Harris
was not to go back to the boarding
house. Had she not here all his
most precious possessions? And in
the bosom of her gown she had sixty
seven dollars concealed, the sum set
apart for her wedding equipment.
With this they were to cross the
mountain to Hazleton, where they
would take the train for New York.
Once there-ah, then that dirty An
gelo might plead! She would have a
husband worth thousand Of him.
Harris gave himself little shake
to make sure it was not all horrible
nightmare.
But, Maria, my little girl, you are
wrong. Don't you see it is all a mis-
take? Go marry Angelo. He deserves
you more than ]"
She looked at him q moment, and
then, with a sob, turned away. She
saw in his face the truth he dared not
speak.
"Oh, say not, say not you cast me
of I" she moaned and stretched her
hands toward him. But she felt no
answering touch. He was looking at
her with little smile and whistling
softly to himself. For a moment she
was transformed from pleading
angel to demon of rage. She stopped
quickly, picked up the bundle ut her
feet, raised it high over her head and
flung it full in his face.
The clumsy missile missed its mark,
however, struck at his feet and rolled
down into the pool of coal-dirt, that
gave a hideous gulp and swallowed
the bundle of bric-a-brac, as it swal-
lowed everything else within its
reach