Republican news item. [volume] (Laport, Pa.) 1896-19??, 1898-11-03
what The Express Brought. /!
BY MARGARET BLoUNT.

DflUSe Inau Spanueu uue narrow river
on the Derwent farm, near Concord,
and Alice Derwent, the farmers
pretty, dark-eyed daughter, stood on
the vine shaded porch, looking after
it with an unconscious sigh.
$50 many come by you, SO many go
by you, out into the great, wide,
beautiful world" she thought, as she
gazed over the fertile valley farm and
out through the break in the circling
blue mountains, from whence a trail
of smoke came floating back. 'T
wonder if you will ever bring me any
thing? or carry me away? or must I
live my life out to the end, shut in by
these quiet hills?"
''Supper ready, mother?" called out
the hearty looking farmer, halting in
the glow of the bright freight on the
open hearth, as he came from fodder
ing the stock, followed by his son,
Thomas, who was the living, breathing
'image of his sire.
''To be sure it is, replied his bust
ling little wife, who had just such eyes
and hair as bonny Alice, and just the
same sweet smile. ''Isn't it always
ready, father, when the train goes by?
Come, Alice!"
"Alice is out there looking for her
fortune, mother" said Tom cit is
coming by that train. 1 know all
about it,
Alice smiled and shook her head at
her saucy brother, as she took her seat
at her fathers side.
Little did any of them think how
many true word is spoken in jest, OF
that the fortune which the evening ex-
press was to bring the daughter of the
house was even then nearing their
hospitable door.
Mrs. Derwent poured out the tea
strong, hot and fragrant.
esquire Seaton, up in the big house
yonder, don't often get such tea as
this, with all his staff of servants"
said Tom, looking across the valley to
the brick-and -freestone palace of the
one millionaire in the village.
"Poor manW sighed Mrs. Derwent.
II do pity him! His wife and daugh-
ter dead, and his only son so wild and
wilful, and wanderer all over the
world. Only last week he told me,
with tears in his eyes, that he had
heard OF his boy, and that the young
man had been seen lately in Leadville,
intoxicated and poorly dressed, in
gambling saloon. Yet, when he wrote
there and wrote kindly-his son had
disappeared. If it was our Tom,
Elihu, 1 should just break my heart.
Tom if you ever do grow unsteady,
and run away like Philip Sea
ton, you will give your mother her
death-blow. Remember that''
''Thank God, it isn't Tom, Martial
I'm sorry, too, for the man and for the
boy. Mr.. Seaton owns that he turned
his son out of his house in New York,
in fit of anger, and that the boy
swore never to enter his house again.
Bad temper on both sides, you see;
and so-Why, Martha, what on earth
is that?"
Farmer Derwent might well ask the
question, and rush from the tea a-table
to the door. followed by his wonder
ing wife and children.
A procession of four of his neigh
bors was coming up from his garden
gate At the gate stood horse and
light express wagon, and from the
wagon. the four men had lifted an in
animate body, and were bearing it to-
ward the house.
''The six O'Clock express has run off
the track mile or two up the Valley"
said Deacon Jones, as he and his two
sons and his brother law reached
the porch with their senseless burden.
"Ever so many people hurt, but able
to go on as soon as they got righted.
But this poor fellow is SO nearly dead
that we thought we had better bring
him here, being as it was the nearest
house, and send for the doctor. We
knew that your wife could nurse him
back into health again if any one
could, Mr.. Derwent"
you're right there, neighbors.
Bring lin in" said the farmer.
His wife led the way to the best
bedroom. next the parlor. Tom sprang
on the back of his swift sorrel colt,
and set off for the doctor.
Half an hour later the supper table
was cleared, and Alice Derwent sat
pensively by the kitchen fire, while
her father and mother were busy with
the doctor in the spare-room; and
Tom. hurrying to and fro, on their
errands, stopping once or twice to in
form her that the stranger was young
and handsome, but dressed like a
laborer. and that the doctor said sit
was near chance whether he lived or
died."
Two weeks passed on. The doctor
.ame and went each day; the neigh
bors far and near volunteered their
services-all except Squire Sea.on,
who lived his usual secluded life in
his great mansion, buried in his books
and knew nothing of the stranger
who lay at deaths door.
''Poor boy! Alice, I wish you would
go in and sit besite him awhile" said
Mrs. Derwent, on the first evening of