The Cook County herald. [volume] (Grand Marais, Minn.) 1893-1909, 1896-03-21
THE FINDING OF A HEART.


last week in December. The Their
mometer stood at SO degrees and the
sun fell warmly on the bare, wet
earth, drawing up little breaths of
vapor on the sunny slopes. There was
a look of WEAKNESS on the face of
s. nature, as if the quiet were the coma
of exhaustion. 1t certainly was Il re
action; for twenty-four hours the rain
had fallen in torrents, breaking up the
ice and choking the streams; the
wind had been almost<a gale, and field
and highway were, streWn with evil
dences of the storms power.
At the gate of handsome house
stood its owner, Mr. Ambrose Win
chester, accounted one of the WEALTH.
est men in the town. He seemed to
be taking in the magnitude of the
storm as his eye swept over his
domain from the thrifty orchids in
the rear and the woodland beyond to
the smooth meadows in front, where
miniature river seemed to have
sprung into existence.
4 young man in buggy drove UP
and stopped.
"Good morning. Mr.. Winchester"
said he.
"Good morning. Hutton" said the
other. gruttly.
1--WE driven over this morning, Mr..
Winchester, to ask you to extend the
time ON that payment; I've done my
best to raise the money
1T don't matter, Hutton. I've made
up my mind to foreclose that prop
erty.'
Hutton grew pale
Surely, you wouldn't do thatw
There was an entreaty in his voice
and eyes. ''You know the factory
Shut down to half time all summer;
even at that I was saving toward the
payment when my wifes long illness
began. Doctor and nurse bills ate up
what I'D saved for YOU
''Same old story! A man has no
right to get married until he can sup
port a family, doctors bills and all.
I've no sympathy with such nonsense
People marry on nothing and then
expect other people to support their
- families. Sooner they find out it can't
be done, the better. Now, 1 take
good care Of: my family without any
body else's help, and I always. expect
to. II You can't do as much, then it's
your fault, not mine. See? [ shall
foreclose, and now let us have no
more WOfQS ABOUT 1t.
With this, the farmer strobe into
the house, the young man driving on
slowly, with bowed head. The farm
ers little girls, Ruth and Mabel, came
dancing out, and their mother fol
lowed them into the porch. ''Now, be
sure and leave grandma's at 4 o'clock,
so as to get here before dark
Yes. mamma, we will,' they re-
sponded glibly, and started off on a
run.
Grandma Winchester lived about a.
mile away, on an unfrequented road,
but the children had made the trip
often since they were quite small.
SO now they chatted happily along
the familiar path. possessed with a
childish interest in everything around
#hem, even to the washouts the rain
had made in the road and cutters.
But when they neared Blue Creek,
they stood in sheer surprise.
The little summer brook they had
sometimes waded acrosss had grown
to an angry torrent, and overhoWed
it's steep banks and was rushing mad
ly along, bearing ice. foam and
branches Of trees. In fact, a tree had
lodged against the bridge. and it's
limbs so nearly covered it that it was
difficult for our little travellers to get
across.
'Oh. how the bridge trembles.'
cried little Mabel
- It's all this ice pushing against it,
said Ruth
The wind began to rise, and the
blue gray clouds settled down, darkly
obscuring the sun, which had made
the day seem so fair. The children
shivered. in unison with the change,
and quickened their pace.
At o'clock that afternoon the two
little girls stood appalled, at the Blue
7 Creek crossing. The brook had
swollen still more, and was now a
a raging torrent; the place spanned by
the gridge was the narrow est. and the
narrow planks, with the frail side
ratings, held to each bank as if by a
r thread a.
81 ''See, Mabel; we must hurry said
Ruth, cor our bridge will be gone.
+ Take my hand, and We'll run across
quick e#. F5ls 4,
1'I'm awful 'fraid,' said the child,
with quivering lips. h Il.
1 s'Well, I'll go frst,'' said her sister
encouragingly, "and you'll see how
easy it will be. Now, then, one-two-
s. Infee.e ana claSp1ng hands the two
little girls started to run across the
reeling bridge. Perhaps it was their
weight; perhaps 1t was at that very
moment the fastenings were ready to
give way. But certain 1t was that
when they reached the middle Of the
bridge it snapped its connections at
each side and with lightning velocity
shot down the stream, the little CUES
clinging to each other and the hand
rail.
The frightful speed at which they
We're going, together with the awful
roar Of the water, and the suddenness
with which the whole thing came
about, gave the children no chance to
q feel the extreme terror that their Iaz,
ardous position would naturally lave
inspired; they had only one thought
only one instructive feeling, and thai
was to cling with a deathlike grip te
y the bridge and each other. It Wassre.
served for the spectator to The scene
who arrived on little knoll that com