The people's journal. (Pickens, S.C.) 1891-1903, 1896-01-30

SWGrfu INC uOCIOE,
Mary paused with the quick tears in
her oyes, for John Alvord had been
the dearest friend OF their own John,
and she loved him for her dead boys
sake. Without " word she brought
out her husbands great coat, brushed
it carefully, us she had brushed 1t evory
day for seven years, helped him put it
on, and then stOOd waiting for her
goodbye kiss.
"The Lord watch between thee and
me-" said DR.. Rutledge, as ho took
her hands in his. Perhaps it was tho
thought Of the long and happy journey
the morrow; perhaps it was the
memory of thoir bright, earlier days,
which mado that handclasp long and
close and ncvor to be forgotten. Then
the doctor turned, and his wife watch
cd the tall, thin figure as he won't
down tho path and through the cato.
Just rs no was climbing into the old
ph;uton, sho was seized with u bright
idea, and suatching up the warm
afghan which she had knitted for him.
she ran out, calling: "Henry, Henry,
take this, 1t Is so cold"
Jeury pulled up tho old whitc horse
and waited for hor, the stormy wind
blowing his long gray locks about
under his hat.
"Thank YOU" he said, with indul-
gent, negligent thank that mon give
when they think q woman has takon
unnecessary trouble.
Mary stood watching him rs he
drove away, until the mists that were
| trailing down from the mountains in
thick clouds wrapped him round and
seemed to sweep him out Of sight.
She had many things to do that morn
/ Il, htNC Ity
singing now q snatch Of one old tune
and then OF another. First, OF course,
there was the housowork: then the
last stitches in Henry's black coat
that she had been now lining and
brushing up with proud thoughts Of
how he would look as he wore it in
the old church then there was u hand
some black silk nccktie to be hemmed,
which she had saved and scrim ped for,
and had finally bought with what
seemed to her a really daring dis
regard Of expense, inasmuch rs u less
stylish kind of'silk would have done as
we'll The nccktie was to- be a sur
prise and Mrs. !autlcdgG hcmmcd on
it with pleased and trembling lingcrs,
Il happy light in the old eyes as she
bent close to see the stitches After
the nccktic, there was " dress to "iiX
up,' /; little, and then the final pack.
ing and strengthening mp; for they
were to start in the morning.
| Almost before she knew it, the day
had gone, and four O'clock struck. n
sudden fOrCboding seized Mrs. Rut-
| lcdgc-hc WAS SO seldom later than
the hour fixed. Sbc went to the win
dow and looked out 1t had been rain
| ing steadily since ten O'clock, and a
gray wall OF mist, heavy and moDac-
| ing, shifting but never rctrcating,
made Il dcSOlatc island of the little
house aud yard. Look any way she
would, still that blank barrier shut
out her vision. The CcaScless pattcr
on the roof, which she had not noticed
before, began to make itself audible
Il dull and insistcnt murmur that would
not be ignored.
It's all right: there is no use in
worrying: hell be here soou," Thought
Mary. setting herself rcsolutcly TO the
task OF getting supper. "l'll have
just about time to make some hot bis
cult, and he likes them particularly
wcll after il long drive. Ill have to
hurry, or he'll be here before they're
done"
She put on the teakcttlc, stirred
the fire, and thcn plunged in:o tho
biscuit making with Il fcverish haste.
giancing every now and then at the
clock.
"Gucss | must BIZ uncommon spry,"
she thought, rs she showed the tin
into the oven, anC commenced putting
ont the plates and cups with clatter
that made q pathetic attempt to be
cheerful. She was Listening all the
time for the rattle of the old ph;rton
as it came up the road; but therc was
no sound save the sullen sough Of the
wind, and the ccasclcss, irritating
puttcr on the roOf--no sound except
one other, growing minute by minute
more loud ana ominous--thc roar Of
the river. The San Gabriel has
tremendous possibilities Of dcstruc-
Iion. 1t has been silent and harmless
lormonths, but to- day, fed by swollen
| mountain torrents, it had spread itself
| flowing past tho house, muddy and
thick, with II sullen, slOwly-increas-
ing roar. 1t showed no waves, it
seemed not unusually swift o: deep,
| but huge mountain logs were swirling
past, helpless in its grasp. Relcnt-
less, trcachcaous, its power was all
tho more terrible for its sccming innO-
| ccnCC.
Mary |, ok I'd at in dismay.
| THE AZusa bridge is safc,' she
thought; "bat the north fork =" The
| hoi vi ioih, "liCic bnC lOfu ncu 10 DC
made amid Quick-9and
Would he venture! And then she
thought, with sinking heart, OF that
other time when, fearless lest she
| should be frightened by his delay, he
bad crossed IL New England mountain
in the lace OF Il terrific storm, risking
his life. Certainly he would venture.
Shc could do nothing but wait.
Darkness settled down, and the muir
mur Of the rain increased, while out
side the tawny, cddying width Of the
river could be seen dimly through tho
gloom. An unuttcrablc loneliness crcpt
over her. Going to the wood-shcd for
another armful Of sticks, the gusty
wind blew out her light and spnt,crcd
angry raindrops into her faco from
between the cracks, and she returned
ont Of breath.
"llc will not come to-night," sho
thought; but Der heart was oppressed
with heavy dread.
The ticking Of the clock grew louder
and moro insistcnt The hands point
cd to ten. She had read two chapters
of the mitation," and then had