The Newtown bee., 1897-05-28


 the girl impatiently. ''If a person won igit out of danger don't see whose faul
 it is if they git hurt except their own I'm sure don't feel as if had any cause
 to moan over her, and I shouldn't thinE you had either.''
 Mrs Frayle turned in startled way
 It was the first time Julia had alluded to Miss Polly's interference in her love af' fair since the day of her memorable visit The fact that neither she nor Reuben Carter-who previously had been an almost daily Visitor-had been to the house since, pointed unmistakably to the conclusion that the former felt some degree of culpability in the matter, for 1t was characteristic of her msthods that when an arrow had gone it's destined way she abandoned the field until all i'm mediate danger of return shot was over. Julia bent over the stocking, weaving, the threads in and out with 8 diligence chat had something forced and forlorn about it. She was looking pale, and her lips had a sad unnatural droop. Mrs Frayle's desire to justify herself overcame her fear of angering her niece
 II ain't sayin' she treated you right" she said, extenuatingly. "To tell the truth, Julyie, it's because come so near something to hatin' of her that don't feel right not to do what can for her at time like this."
 Julia gave mocking laugh, and then suddenly rose sobbing, and with her face hidden in her hands Fran upstairs like a whirlwind. When Mrs Fravle dared follow her and cali softly at the door, she received no answer, but could hear her sobbing still.
 c. mplexity of feeling drove sleep from Mrs F4ayle. Resentment and anxiety color d her thoughts of Polly Anderson, while love and pity, and the tenderest longing to be comfort to her afflicted niece, made her very miserable when she thought of Julia's unfortunate predica- meut. More than once she got out of bed and tiptoed to the door of the girls room, but it was not until late that she was relieved by quietness within. Then she had gone back to her pillow and fallen asleep, only to be awakened soon after by the changing of the village bell. Julia was at her beside before she had fairly realized what had awakened her.
 "Aunt Liza! Aunt Liza !'' called she, in the sharp tone of one aroused to a tate of things not fully comprehended. "Wake up, Aunt Llza!"
 She shook her aunt by the arm, and Mrs Frayle sat up in bed automatically. The sharp scratching of the match with which Julia was trying to light the lamp set her shivering with nervous dread.
 "It's the bridge, Julyie. It's that bridge. I knew twould go. o, why didn't I make Polly Anderson come away! What shall we do, Julyie?'
 Julia ran to the window and looked out. A cry of fright burst from her lips as she did so, and hearing it Mrs Frayle nerved herself to join her.
 The moon was high, and its white light fell on the world outside, bringing out the salient points with photographic defi- niteness. The broadened sheet of water that had 80 dismayed Mrs Frayle the pre- vious evening had now 30 widened that 1t seemed as if nothing but water filled the lower part of the town. The sound of its impetuous onward rush made itself evident to the watchers at the window, while the Ibell clamored spasmodicalIy fO ho Sv7h ffar fo kn xzyIfn no inevitable destruction of whatever lay in its path.
 Mrs Frayle's inherent helpfulness as- serted itself.
 "I guess we'd better be a dressin' of ourselves" she said, moving backward and pulling down the window shade with resolute snap.
 When she and Julia went down the hill little later they were passed continual ly by people hurrying to the lower town. The hillside above the water line was black with watching crowds.
 It was indeed 8 thrilling scene upon which they were gazing. On this inland sea, ss out of place aR if the product of mirage, the three little houses rested, complete and pitiful wrecks of the tidy little places so recently the pride of their occupants. The two lower ones, though twisted out of position and shorn of chim neys and all outward decorations, were not in as deplorable plight as Miss Pol ly's,Ewhlch had been completely over- turned and crushed into splinters at one end. A portion of the framework of the bridge had become inextricablY entang- led with this ruin, and the two swung back and forth in the current like some threatening and formidable monster of prehistoric times.
 "There ain't nobody left there, that's one comfort" said man of evident local prominence. ''They all mad fair warn ing yisterday, an the whole kit an bilin' of lem got away. Lucky move, too, I'm thinkin'."
 "Where'd Polly Anderson go, squire?" asked anxious-faced Mrs Frayle, who had arrived just in time to hear this reassur- ing remark.
 The man turned upon her wiGh fall ing countenance.
 ''Moses an Aaroni" calculated he, "Ain't she with yos, Mis- Frayle? She sent word she was goiu' to your, house, an s'posed of course she went."
 "She never," gasped Mrs Frayle. II couldn't git her started no ways when I was down there."
 In stentorian tones the squire put the question whether anyone within hearing knew of Polly Anderson's whereabouts. Mn nxn did 1Tho nrnurd had annnxr,h 1na