The Wadsworth dispatch. [volume] (Wadsworth, Nev.) 1892-1899, 1895-06-12
Continued from p g. two.)

he. too, died and made flesh for the
birds, but his soul went away to q
land where the sky was not to be
seen for the branches of trees. nor
the ground for grass and flowers.
where fountains and streams were
all about and the air was fresh and
cool. Then he awoke and found O
bit of cracked ice between his lips
and felt the air from a fan about his
head, but between the dark gray
blankets, with their eternal yellow
U. b, which were tackled up at the
windows, and the window castings
painted brown red when the @. N.
had had an oversupply of that color,
he saw q bit of tho hot, cleaning
sky, and he sighed and turned his
head.
Every day tho man saw the sky
and grew to loathe and hate it. His
one idea in life was to get as far as
possible from under it, and he count
ed the hours until the doctor should
tell him that four mules might bear
him to the railroad and one iron
steed carry him away-away to any
other place on the earth.
The commandments wife brought
the lieutenant a great many dainties
and read and talked, treated him
very like her own son, for all are
comrades in the army. whether in
misfortune or good luck. Truman
asked about the daughter and want
ed to thank her for having saved him
a bad fall. The mother offered to
carry the message, but not to bring
the girl in as an angel visitor. Tru-
man gathered that she was q very
sedate young woman, bred in strict
conventionality, and, moreover. that
she was not a schoolgirl, but had
been for the past year in the unrest
of Washington and Bar Harbor So
ciety.
Before all these revelations he had
cherished just the least bit of a ro-
nance deep down in his heart and
had thought quite a little about those
slender arms that had held him, all
unconscious of the bliss, but now a
different image grew up within him,
a tall, fair, quiet and cold natured
woman who moved along a track
trodden by thousands of feet before.
and which goes, narrow, hard, un-
lovely and straight, until at last it
forks, and one path leads to despair
and pain, and the other to a frozen
heart and soul. both bounded in time
by the steep precipice of death and
the unending void of eternity. He
grew quite afraid of his erstwhile
gauzy idol and was uncomfortable
with the thought of her in his
mind.
One day, at retreat, the majors
orderly brought over a dog cared
note and handed it to the mother.
She read it and took her departure,
leaving the note lying upon Tru-
mans bedspread.
The lieutenant reached out his
bony hand and picked up the paper.
It smelled very slightly of violet
and was the most proper thing in
stationery. The writing was point
ed and heavy and firm and added
to poor Truman's alright. He closed
the letter unread, of course, though
he felt a vast anxiety to know what
was written above that stately sig
nature of "Olgs."
It was an hour after retreat and
quite comfortably cool, by compari-
son, when Truman ventured to leave
his quarters the next time and crawl
slowly over to the commandments
house. He was met at the door and
literally taken in the arms of the
majors kindly wife. A steamer chair
was stretched out for him and cool
ing drinks all ready. But nowhere
was the daughter to be seen-the
calm, impassive Olga of his mind.
The elder lady and he were all alone
for an hour or more before there
came a sound upon the close night
air which made the lieutenant start
and look around.
A girls voice, q deep voice and
sweet. was speaking outside; then a
form in white, a tall and very slender
form, was framed in the doorway