The Dupuyer acantha. [volume] (Dupuyer, Mont.) 1894-1904, 1896-06-18

1t was the night before Easter morn
ing. The little village by the murmur-
ing creek was half-hidden in the mys-
teal, vapory, starry gloom of a Rus
sian night in springtime. The neigh
boring wood flung blacklist shadows on
the fields beside it. All was silent.
Tho village s~lumbercd.
Hours passed, and long before the
night was gone it's still charm was
broken. Lights began to gliirmer in
the windows of cottages whose wretch
edness was disguised in the bewitch-
ing springtime gloom of night. A gate
ereaMeG. The tread of a loot was heard
here aud there. Heavy figures, darkly
outlined, emerged from the shades of
the wood. \ dog parked, and then an
other and another.
Then a horsenian clattered along the
village street. A passing cart groaned
an creaked under It's early morning
burden. The darSly-outlined figures
increased in number. The villagers be-
gan to gather in the church to bid vel
come to the spring holiday.
1t was q quaint little church. 1t
stood upon q hillock in the middle of
the village. All at once it's windows
glowed dimly among he shadows.
Then their bright less icrcased. The
church was all alight.
High into the darkness overhead
reached the old belfry tower. The top
was lost in the azure gloom.
Then the rickety belfry stairs began
to creak. Old Micheich, the bellringer,
u,oc .Jo ,,Iapinu a1rft Soon hic la IN
tern hung in the bell window, shining
like a new star in the sky.
1t was hard for the old mar to climb
those steep and crooked stairs. His
old eyes no longer served him, and he,
like they, was worn out.
AS he climbed, he pondered. 1t was
time, indeed, he thought that he should
rest. But God would not send him
death. He had seen his children bur
led. He had stood by the open graves
of his grandchildren. He had followed
the old to their last resting-pllce. He
had followed the young there, too.
But still he lived and lived. 1t was
hard.
Many a time had he welcomed the
Easter morning-so many times that
he could not recall them all. He had
even forgotten bow often in later
years he had hoped for death in his
same old belfry, as he hoped for 1T
now. And yet this early morning God
had brought him there ono more.
1t was not yet time for him to ring
the merry peals, and the old man tot
tered to the belfry window and looked
out over the railing. Below him i'll
the darkness he could dimly see the
neglected graves. The white wooden
crosses at their heads seemed to be
guarding them with widestretched
arms. Here and there a few birch
trees bent naked branches fOrlOrnly
over the mounds and the aromatic
odors of their young buds arose on the
silent air to Micheich' snostrils. They
bore to him a tale of tranquil, eternal
sleep.
Where would he be a year from this
moment? Would he be there again?
Would he have once more climbed into
I that tower under the clamorouS copper
bells to awaken the ~slumbering night
with their sharp, resounding strokes?
Or would he lie out there in a dark
corner of the cemetery with a white
cross guarding his -everlasting sleep?
God alone knew. He was ready TO
debut in the meantime God had
brought him into the belfry once more
w NtlIOiiit tiC IIhStNi
''To the glory of God!'
His old lips repeated the Oft-spoken
formula and his old eyes gazed into
the deep sky above burning with its
millions upon millions of stars.
"Micheich! Micheich!'
The voice came from below. 1t was
the old sexton who had come from the
church into the graveyard beneath the
tower and was gazing upward, with
his hands shading his blinking, tear
moistenod eyes in vain effort to make
out the form of the bellringer in the
darkness overhead.
What do YOU want?" answered old
Micheich, bending over the railing
I'm here. Can't you see mc?'
Il do not see,' cried the sexton. SIS
it not time to ring? What do you
think?'
Both gazed upon the stars. Thous,
ands of Gods lanterns were blinking
at them from the armament. The
night was waning, Micheich thought.
NO. not yet" he said. "Wai aWhils
l know when.'
He knew. He needed no clock. Gods
stars would tell when the time haf
come. The earth and sky. the 1eecy
clouds swimming darkly in the deer
sea of blue above, the inky fOrest
whispering unintelligible things to tbs
moving breath of morning; the black
splashing creek. though now invisible
all these he knew. He understood
their language. They would tell hin
when the moment came.
How many times he had seen al
these things. The past came nip agail
before him. He recalled the first time
he had climbed those creaklng steps