The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1896-04-10

It vas 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 Rus
sim night in springtime. The neigh
boring wood flung blacklist shadows on
the fields beside It. All was silent.
Tho village slunlbered.
Hours passed, and long before the
night was gone its still cham was
broken. Lights began to glimmer in
the windows Of cottages whose wretch
edness was disguised in the bewitch-
ing springtime gloom Of night. A gate
erealaed. The tread Of a foot was heard
here aud there. Heavy figures, darkly
outlined, emerged from the shades Of
the wood. a dog barkcd, and then an
other and another.
Then horseman clattered along the
village street. A passing cart groaned
an creaked under its early morning
burden. The .darkly -outlined figures
increased in number. The villagers be-
gan to gather in the church to bid vel
come to the spring holiday.
1t was quaint little church. It
stood upon q hillOck in the middle Of
the village. All at once its windows
glowei dimly among the shadows.
Then their bright 1ess Increased. 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,
<.0o nj hi
tern hung in the bell window, shining
like new star In the sky.
1t was hard for the old man to climb
those steep and crooked stairs. His
old eyes no longer served him, md 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-place. He
had followed the young there, too.
But still he lived and lived. 1t was
hard.
Many time had he welcomed the
Easter morning-so many times that
he could not recall them all. He had
even forgotten how often in later
years he had hoped for death in this
same old belfry, rs he hoped for it
now. And yet this early morning God
had brought him there once more.
It 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 in
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 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 tale Of tranquil, eternal
sleep.
Where would he be year from this
moment? Would he be there again?
Would he have once more climbed into
that tower under the clamorous copper
bells to awaken the slumbering night
with their sharp, resounding strokes?
Or would he lie out there in 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
to welcome the Easter morning.
''ro the glory of Godv'
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
moistened 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 tn" railing.
"rm here. Can't you see me-?
II do not see," cried the sexton. us
1t not time to ring? What do you
think?"
Both gazed upon the stars. Thous-
ends Of Gods lanterns were blinking
at them from the armament The
night was waning, Nicheich thought.
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