The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-11-04

D
companionship, with the final deadly hurt
which drove them apart until the lips OF
/ one were forever still, and then the old
man groveling upon his knees beside the
| coffin ana the pail, just before the sad
[ dening cortcge moved away. as its eli
max Of hopeless pathos and grief; until It
| all move with me from beginning to
/ end with tumultuous, impetuous tread.
Then pressed upon the old fellow some
] coin for comforting tobacco and ale, saw
/ him back to the pleasant hospital grounds
1 and bidding him a hearty good-by, started
to turn away.
Holding his rough old hand for a mo-
/ ment, ! was thrilled with sudden and
convincing thought. 1t took expression
in my parting words as 1 looked in his
| dolefuI face,
Uncle Billy. I believe something will
happen to relieve your lonliness up there
in ward ten since Mike has gone away
"Only one thing could appen now, sir
/ he replied with startling groan.
! knew what he meant; but that was
| not my thought
mo, no; it viii not be that, Uncle BILLY.
It is something better, brighter than that.
| You have not shown me yet your wife is
/ dead. I believe know-she will yet be
found to take Mikes place through many
sunny days"
The old man wrung his hand ferccly out
Of mine He staggered back against the
stone pillar of the gateway, and would
have fallen, had not the pensioner sentry
come to his support.
My last glimpse of him as I turned and
almost fled was a picture that will never
leave my heart. The old pensioners face
had turned from bronze to deathly white,
and l felt that unutterable maledictons
were struggling from his lips for the false
| hopes l had so cruelty raised within him.
But in some wild, needless, unaccounta-
bic way, / had a stubborn belief in what
l had felt and said. 1t possessed me over
and above every impulse toward my own
remorseless task.
That woman is alive, here in London.
/ shall be instrumental in bringing these
two strife-beatcn old souls together!
came flashing and whirling in upon me
again and again as | FASTENED back to
the city and my work. ! did not reason
this out. / could not. 1t followed me
even when l stole into the National Gal
lery, and, for added inspiration in my
story-making, stood before Herkomer's
great painting of the Chelsea pensioners
at vesper service.
Yes, there they all were, grimly and
awfully real and true. Not very revcrcn-
tial these old war dogs of other days.
You can see they are uneasy as children
in their pews. You almost hear their feet
getting into complications with wooden
/ legs, canes and crutches; and one cannot
but listen for strange snuiflings, clear
ing of threats and hard asthmatic breath
ing. But the mighty master piece-al-
most history, in suggestiVeness, of
Britains imperial conquests and her
thankless niggardliness to the broken lives
that had been cast remorselessly aside!-
does not one whit exaggerate the Won
drous pathos of their collective and indi-
vidual aspect The painter has told all
the wretched, heart breaking story in
these white heads and battle SCARED bent
frames bowed in groveling, protestive
silence at time of benediction and prayer!
In half hour more l was back at my
desk, my window shutters closely drawn
| and hiding the dreary fappings of
ghostly London fog, my fire and light
burning brightly, and everything in readi-
ness for my inspirated task. Then the one
thought flashed over me that a master
| had told illimitibly more on canvas than
could ever be revealed in words But l
| fought this down, and still essayed to
write.
Again and again / began, but it seemed
| like contemplate plagiarism, yes, almost
like literary sacrilege, to even tread on
ground so incOmparably traVersed before
me. The entire fabric of the day began
to vanish like phantom of the night. 1
saw first, HeTkomers great painting;
| then the wretched face of the poor old
man l had left half falnting at Chelsea
hospital gate; and then-the face, or out
lines of a face, my logged persistence in
an apparently hopeless fancy was slowly
| Coniuring out of the misty depths of Wis
| ionary clouds
For hours 1 sat thus voorhees, and effort
/ less before my desk and papers. l had
long before flung my pen from me and it
| had rebounded from the desk and fallen
/ with one end resting across the huge
/ glass inkstand. With my head held tight
/ ~ in my hands, ] was gazing Vacantly at
/ both, seeing neither fairly from stress of
! mental excitement and distraction.
t Sn1naTlV wit hin the
/ and indentations of the ornamental glass
/ on the outer surface of the inkstand, the
| half caught outlines of a womans face
/ arrested my attention. More startling still
/ it was the identical face which my fancy
| had evolved from the strange and pathetic
Incidents of the day; and it now took on
definite form and feature in the old glass
| inkstand before me.
Not only did this face of woman come
distinctly into view, but aside from its
plainly traceable lineaments, below and
| beneath ii was a crouched bent and
| bumped little body, while the penholder
| had been grotesquely transformed into
the figures stout and sturdy staff.
/ laughed outright at the curious hal
| lucination and challenged the old pen
sioner as if in petty triumph with:
"Ah, l told you your wife was not dead
| Uncle Billy. Sec, Here we have already
/ found her!"
eBlieve it or not, the face in the ink
stand responded to this with many and
the sweetest of mods and smiles
There you are then, Mistress Merrill 30
I banterngly asked of the face in the ink
stand.
A nod and a smile followed this in
stantly.
And you are still patiently waiting for
Uncle Billy who never came?"
Imperative holdings and a mournful
smile We're the immediate response.
Dear, dear! 1t is very loyal and good
of you; but won't you please so away
just for little, until this hateful story is
begun and done, Mistress Mcrrill?" l
pleaded kindly but distractedly.
mo, no. no. was plainly answered in
the detected head shaking in the i'm
stand and I heard or thought ] plainly
heard the imperative humping dissent
of the staff upon my hollow desk.
Something like a feeling Of solemnitv
now came upon me. The persistence and
insistence of the face in the inkstand
reused me from dalliance to action.
I / rubbed my eyes furiously thinking.
Nov. presto! and away il fies!" but il