Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1895-05-31
SWEET WILLIAMS.
ga Miniature story" by Mary Il
wilkins,

The sweet Williams III ner llJIle ITOnJ ydTu
had to struggle against the sand and were
sorely buffeted by the mighty salt winds.
1t was well that they belonged to the race
of flowers which wither upon their stalks,
and were in no danger of having their
pretty painted petals torn away. As it
was, they were sometimes dashed about
and beaten fiat in their green ranks, while
Miranda pressed her sallow cheek against
her window-pane and watched them sadly.
When the calm came she would scrape
away the drifted sand from their roots and
straighten them, but the wind she could
not stay.
Miranda had belief, which she told to
nobody, and scarcely faced herself, although
it was founded upon scripture, in the Prince
of the powers of the air. She had felt, with
a bending and curving away of her whole
soul, presence in the wind; She had con-
ceived dark energy of intelligence in the
blast that smote her window.
Miranda was a church member, and she
said her daily prayer, and "'Thy will be
done awakened no struggle in her soul.
She felt an inmost certainty that the will
of the Lord toward her had been only for
good and pleasant things. She believed
that all the woes of her life had come from
that dark potentate who Jared abroad in
the night and the storm. Her stress of
life had been such, and her manner of mind
was such, that she had either to lose be-
lief in the mercy of God or believe in the
devil. She believed in the devil.
Miranda's peculiar views might have
been attributable to some inherent mean-
choly strain, or to an unusual power of
gloomy Imagination. She never confided
them to others. Often, with neighbors
around her, she listened to what she alone
heard and made no sign.
Miranda with no doubt in her soul of the
loving kindness of the Lord toward her.
adored him like saint. She prayed and
read her Bible, she worked hard, and min
istered with all her strength to those who
had need of her. Although she believed
she had been hardly buffeted by Satan dur
ing her life, she also believed that the Lord
had walked with her through her valleys
of shadows.
Miranda had had sad time in the world
When she was child her father had been
lost at sea; she had been obliged to toll
for her bread almost from her cradle. When
she was girl grown, with a lover, her
mother had gone melancholy mad, and
wandered off and died in the salt marshes.
Then her sailor lover had seen a fairer
ldCc III duOIH6I pOIl, anu
and the news had come to her as she sewed
her wedding gown.
Miranda had an elder sister, and a young
er brother who had his fair wits clouded
from his birth. The elder sister died, and
Miranda had her foolish brother to care
for and both their livings to earn. She
took cold, going out in all weathers for all
sorts of rough toll, and contracted an af-
lection of the hip joint and a grotesque
lameness. She had been pretty girl, but
her beauty was all gone before she was
middle-aged. She looked in her glass only
to smooth her hair. She had never for
gotten her faithless lover and she had also
forgiven him. Once she waXed fairly
fierce when neighbor repeated to her a
rumor that he was a scoundrel, dissipated
and worthless. She denied it with the
authority of love, not caring what was
thought of her.
She still loved her old lover, and she still
tended his flowers in her garden. Her low
er's name was William, and he had brought
her, years age, when going away to sea,
the roots of the sweet-wiliams and babe
her plant his namesakes in her garden and
tend them faithfully for love of him until
he came home. He had a merry spirit and
she had loved that well.
Miranda proved her faithful love, for
year after year, in the season of them, hel
little front yard was gay and sweet with
her lovers flowers. They were a thicket
of notified crimson bloom. Strangers
stopped to look at them. There are saddeI
things in life for souls of certain guild
than keeping green the memories of loved
ones gone forever Miranda had a certain
peace and happiness while tending hel
flowers.
Miranda's foolish brother lived until she
was past fifty. Then he died and that
same year little property came to her,
and she needed to work hard no longer.
The summer of that year her sweet-williams
were more beautiful than ever, she had so
much leisure to tend them; and that sum-
mer the one who had given them to her
came back.
One night there was terrible storm and
the sweet-williams were beaten down be-
fore the wind. Early in the evening, before
the storm had fairly broken, Miranda had
gone out in her garden, but her gray locks
and her cotton garments had dashed about
her like whips, her breath had failed and
she had felt the wind bearing down upon
her like solid body of wrath. Her old
terror had returned; she had fled into her
little house, pulled down her curtains, and
bolted her doors.
The storm waxed harder and harder.
The rain, with the force of the gale in it,
pelted the windows like bullets the house
rocked Miranda did not go to bed. She
sat with her Bible in her lap, and read and
prayed. She prayed for all those who go
down to the sea in ships, and she men,
toned her old lover by his name to the
Lord. She reflected that he might be on
the water that awful night.
A little after midnight she heard the
boom of gun, and knew a ship was in
distress not far away. Her heart failed
her at the thought. civilian may be
aboard that ship" She heard the halloos
of men going by to the rescue. She prayed
more fervently, and shuddered when the
evil wall of the wind rose higher.
She heard the guns again and again
she heard the fierce rattle of the rain on
the window-panes; she heard the mighty
command of the wind; and she heard a
knock on her house door.
A great horror came over Miranda. She
stared at the door with wild eyes. The
knock came again. Miranda, calling upon
the Lord for aid, went to the door and
flung it open. A great gust of strong wind