Wheeling register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1878-1935, 1898-07-25

word. she pantkd. Don't 50 yet.
When can hear fkom you? Just one
minute; want to say something,
Guy.
The telephone bell sounded with i'm
patience even as she spoke She rang
again and again, and there was no an
swer.
Come back; l must say ore word.
Central, give me 81, please give me 81.
Guy. dear, won't you come for one
single second? Tm-I'm so sorry for
this morning. It was my fault every
bit of it.
She pleaded sobbing into the sense
less thing in her hand, that no longer
responded she rang again and once
again, frantically
Then she sprang wildly erect, and
whispered.
1T is too late-he's gone-perhaps
forever. Her head fell forwad, she
swayed toward the closet door, fun
bled at the handle, opened it. and
cried, in voice, faint and pitiful.
viii some one-help me?'
| Her failing sight caught Ruth hur-
| ryiag toward her through the street
door; her failing hearing was pierced
by the shrill young voice of a newsboy
dashing around the corner:
Extra, extra, Presidents mes
sage read in Congress. War is sure
to"
His voice was lost in the roar Of the
| streets, and Mrs. Phelps sank uncon-
scious into Ruth's arms.
Twenty-four hours passed. Half
through the night and all day long the
cries of the newsboys reached the
! shrinking hearing of the young wife
| Her sweet face was stiff and ashy with
! suffering, her hands so cold that her
| child shrank from her touch, and
whimpered.
As the day drew to its close, Mrs.
Phelps lay once again silent and spent
on the old lounge, and again she heard
a quick step spring up the stairs. a
ring at her bell, the low words at the
door. 1t seemed like the confused
memory of dream. She did not even
open her eyes until Ruth said close be-
side her:
! "One these yer NESS ger boys, Miss
|
TO you. 1t do smell like it might be
some sort er bo'quet," she added smil-
ing
Put it down, nanny; I'll arrange
them LATER said Mrs. Phelps Probably
some friend at the yard. who knew Of
the ships sudden sailing. had remem-
bered her and sent her silent message
Of sympathy in this sweet way. 1t was
often done from one sad-hearted wife
to another, just to help little in the
endless pathos of their common lives.
Land sakes, Miss Mamie, amt you
put them posies in water yet?' COM
planned Ruth. again appearing at the
door, watching for some spark of in
| terest in that set white face before her
yearning eyes.
| All right, nanny, dear; please
don't scold," said Mrs. Phelps, smile
breaking for an instant through the
rigidity of her face.
She arose and began to unite the
| string about the pasteboard box. She
raised the lid and lifted out a great pile
Of pink and yellow roses. The baby
ran toward her with a soft COO of de-
| light.
Then Mrs. Phelps gave loud cry and
the roses fell all about her. She stood
staring wildly at an envelope that had
slipped to the bottom of the box, ad-
dressed to her in her husbands hand
writing. 1t was as if it came from a
| grave THAI awful silence .f the sea.
For a second she was afraid to touch
1T and stood with her hands pressed
over her heart. Then she seized the
envelope and with one swift motion of
her trembling forefnger ripped it open,
and read with eyes half blinded by
tears:
"The pilot leaves us ct Scotland
| Hghtship in few moments He will
take this back to the city. Also an
| order for few flowers, which | can
| only hope will go straight. You should
| get this tomorrow or next day. | am
on my knees to you, my. wife, for this
morning. | beg your pardon for this
morning-every ugly word of it. Try
and forget it if you can. Stamp it out
| of your memory, for it has no real ex-
istence against all the rest-all the
happy years. Just try and remember
those, aid love me little, dear
Peace may come out of it all yet
and If notify and be brave A sailor
has need of a plucky wife, one drilled
into the touch spirit of regular by
long service. And remember:
Ours not to reason why,
Ours to do
Che had SHE'D at the word, with no
time to rewrite.) Goodbye, my love.
All. If l could have held you just for
| one second and heard you whisper, It's
all right, Guy But take our little one
in your arms and look into her eyes
my eyes, you've always said-and read
there my endless love and honor. Kiss
her and hold her close, and forgive me,
forgive me-"
Mrs. Phelps fell on her knees. and
throwing her arms about her baby be-
gan to sob like tired child.
At that moment once again the shout
came piercingly up from the street be-
low:
Extra! Congress may declare
war;
The young wife sprang to her feet
and shook her first in the direction OF
the voice, and half laughing, half Sob
bling, she cried:
at is not war-it is peace. thank
God. Boston Globe.