The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1898-06-18
IN A SNOWSTORM
By a e. SALE.

THE SNOW was whirling down ST.
lently, throwing its pure beauty
even over the dirty, grimy streets,
sooty, high chimneys, and ugly, square
factories of the manufacturing town.
But the poor soul who came shivering
from the hospital steps into the COM
paratively quiet, white street, did not
see this unusual beauty. He was thin
~ clad, and the piercing north wind
cut through him. He had just been dis
charged as cured--a word which seemed
a CHASTITY mockery If you looked at the
white, drawn face and heard the rack
ing cough which shook his enfeebled
frame. What can be done in such cases?
Others were waiting to take his place,
and he was well enough, the doctor
said, to leave. He told them in the hos
pitai that he was going back ito t ouid
place." mentioning village some miles
distant. and which he had not seen for
many years; for, when taken i'll in Lon
don, he had been drawn, as by mag
net, northward, and, with sick mans
longing, thought he would get well if
only he could breathe again his fresh,
native air, and see the home unyisited
so long.
1t was the oft-told tale. John Lear
was country lad who left home to find
work, and had left, too, behind him a
girl to whom he was to return when he
had made home for her. That home
had never been made, nor had he had
any fate but hard times. Gradually he
drifted lower and lower; still, however,
honestly struggling for work. He had
said when leaving Mary Romer that he
would not come back till he had home
for her, and she had waited wearying
through long years for news, while she,
too, worked for her bread, and kept her
fathers house, till the report came that
John Lear was dead. Dead, indeed, he
was to her. for no word came from him
Ito him, too, it had ended--in illness
from want, and then the hospital. Now
he was discharged, with the longing for
home strong in him. He would make
his way home; perhaps the squire or
some farmer would give him work. He
would not trouble Mary Romer, but he
must see the old place. This last desire
Overpowered all others.
1t was weary tramp. always through
the binding snow, to his destination.
Hard. enough for whole man in such
weather, but well-nigh impossible to
him in his weakness. But he was true
north-country in pluck and doggedness.
His poor, thin, clothes froze to him,
though the heavy drops gathered often
on his forehead, and his worn boots got
clogged with snow, but he trudged on
patiently, asking no help, pausing only
when his cough caught him with sharp
pain, and he had to stand still to ease
his painting breath. He had little
money, which had been given him by
the kindly doctors, to help him, for his
honest, simple courage had won ON
them; but it was his fixed idea that this
must be kept to pay for food and lode-
Ing when he reached the village, so that
he might not disgrace his name by re-
turning beggar.
Resting perforce at intervals, spend
ing as little as possible on food just 10
help him on, he walked through the
day. Nightfall came. Still the snow
swirled down, making drifts by the
hedges. and singing his face as it
eddicd round him in the wind. The
smoky town was far behind; he was
among his own wolds now, and, in
spite Of the leveling. celebrating eff
dects Of snow, his eager eyes traced
well-known landmarks in the dim light.
1T is but sma' bit. now" he NUT
tered; Il mum see t'-ould place, though
they are all gone. most like" A cottage
or two by the road and twinkling lights
further on showed he was nearing the
village. 1T is her house, but I couldna
20 there" he went on, az he passed
small cottage. I'll knock at the farm.
No one will know me-" he added scorn-
fully, "a poor. clemmed body, but tits .
ould place, sure"
Alittle further ON he came to a larger
more substantial house, which was the
farm. Entering the gate. and going up
the tagged path, he knocked at the
door. A bright. buxom-looking woman
opened it. She did not recognize him.
but he knew her at glance a. Mary
Roner, his old lsye. Alittle girl clunr
10 her skirt, and peeped round at the
strange man. He started and stared al
her. Il all flashed across him. She had
married Farmer Browu--he remem-
bered. now; he was an old sdmirer. So
4 was; having heard be was dead In
= u = =