Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1894-05-10

and sobb:ng rain only the signs and
plant of the wound ed and yanquished,
she sang, in a quavering, sympathetic
voice:
Come ye disconsolate where'er re anguish !"
When soft summer rain fell witt the
soothing, dreamy sound of lullaby
she sang, in a voice more even now:
MY peace like river grows deeper ana
deeper
Tonight, true TO the old habit, as she
looked out along the lonely road, she
repeated. half aloud, the words of the
hymn beginning:
ST am sad and heavy hearted:
No refuge on earth for me-
The way had never seemed so long or
over the road as late as this; but then
David always came to meet her it the
night was dark, and a light in the
kitchen window could be seen when
she reached the corner. which was half
way home. Tonight there would be
nothing to shorten the way. And how
was she to find the COW in the darkness
aid rain? She was too tired to make a
fire or get the supper, and thought she
would go to bed without either. David
ought to have known she could not liv e
alone. The ''carousin'" of the night
before did not seem 80 objectionable
an offense when she remem ber ed that
it was the only time he had failed to
have the chores done and a warm sup
per waiting for her. What could he be
thinking OF, at his age. to want to
work in a mine? Perhaps he had been
suffocated by firedamp by this time,
or walled up in some long forgotten
passageway. There was always some
thing happening-something terrible
in mine. And what Of that pistol-it
must have been a pistol--in his pocket
David was not used to firearms, and
could not be expected to be on his
guard against the treachery and blood.
thirstiness of those feartully and won
derfully made things. 1t might have
gone off suddenly and unexpectedly
might even have blown his whole head
of. And she involuntarily closed her
eyes as though shutting out the ghast-
ly sight.
BY this time her shoes were wet
through. and as she turned the corner
the wind blew her wet sunbonnet
across her face, and for moment shut
out the dim outlines of the road be-
fore her. She stopped to fold back the
bonnet and wipe the tears and rain
from her face, and then. looking up,
stood in a doubling, questioning
amazement There was light in the
window. What could it mean? Could
David really be there? The darkness,
cold and rain were quite forgotten as
she hurried on along the muddy road,
through the gate. and up the path be.
tween the rain spiashed flowers. still
keeping the light-the welcome light
in view. until she opened the door and
stood within the kitchen. Could this
be the room she had pictured to her.
self when she started for home? Here
was light and warmth in place Of the
darkness and cold. The supper Ia BILE
was set as usual, and an appetizing
odor of baked potatoes, tea and stew
ing apples filed the room. And most
wonderful of all, there was David
hurrying in through the back door with
the milk pail and in the cheeriest voice
seemingly forgetful of all the perils
of the day-telling her why he had not
gone to meet her.
Il lowed l should certainly git tc
the corner" he said; ''but that pesky
COW was away off in the back lot, an
wouldn't come for no calm. So jest
had to foot it all the way over there
after her. But, Polly, come right uE
to the fire an set down in the rockin'
chair. whilst hang up your wet bun.
nit an shawl 1t beats all how we,
you air! Here, let me take off you,
wet shoes an put them on the wood.
box to dry. jest knowed how it would
be when see it comm on to rain; that
you couldn't noways in reason milk
that COW nor have things comfortable.
like here, as they ought to be, an so
Jest hurried back from Tam'rach
Swamp as fast as could tramp. Nc
and John Baker went over there this
mornin' to look for bee tree met
him out near the corner. an nothin
would do but must come along. He
SAYS I can find a bee tree eastern any
man he knows; an 1 guess he's about
right about it. At any rate, l found
this one. I'm awful smart at Ending
bee trees. It's good one. too. John
lows there's two hundred pounds Of
honey in it. One hundred for him and
one hundred for US. We're goin' back
in the 1nornin' with Johns horse and
wagin, if nothin happens to bender. to
bring it home. You never see any body
quite so tickled as John is Says he's
eat buck wheat cakes two winters 'thout
no ney, an he don't want to do it ag'in
told him you'd be jest as glad as him,
for you'd been kinder hankerin' ate,
honey all fall"
Here Polly suggested that they ex,
change some of it at the village store
for coffee and tea And while talking
of the honey. the rough road to the
swamp and John Baker the supper wa
eaten and the milk strained, and ther
they began to look for something te
bring the honey home in. As Davio
started to go upstairs for the wash
boiler. which Polly thought would OF
lest the thing" she said: AN al
you're agoin' up, David, you may a:
well take your other hat an the carpit
bag; there amt no use havin' then
layin' round"
AS the stair door swung shut after
him, his coat, which bad been hanging
from a nail on the door. fell to the
floor, and something heavy rolled from
the pocket and under the rocking
| chair. Polly, remembe ring the pistol,
was too murh frightened to scream,
and stood listening in terror. Then
| not hearing the almost endless
| succession of shots which she had
! expected would foil ow, she cautiously
| stopped and looked under the chair:
When she rose to her feet she held in
her hand an old-fashioned case con