The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1899-11-21

but two living characters in this
brief narrative. 1t will not be nee
N essary to use names. One other
character-a dead person-enters
into the recital, and she, too, may be
without a name.
1t was nearly two years after this
woman's death that He and She, the
living principals of this tale, were mar
ried. The dead woman had been his
wife and She had known her for years
Indeed, the two women had been
schoolmates together, and after the first
wife's death She was the first to go TO
him with a consolation that brought
surcease in that moment of heart-torn
grief when the future seemeh to hold
nothing for him. For a good many
weeks the two were seen together oc-
casionally. She felt that the death of
her most intimate friend made II duty
to show small attentions to the bereft
husband, and once in awhile the little
deserted home was br'ghtened Nv
bunch Of flowers that came fresh from
the hands Of her dainty garden back
of the old ashioncd house, just a few
rods down the lane.
All at once, just at a moment when
his friends were wondering that a hus-
bands grief could be so deep and last
ing, He began to go down the country
way between the two houses and spend
an hour on the broad back porch that
faced the garden Of old-fashloned roses
that were cared for through the cool
of the morning and evening by the
quiet folk who had been so much to
him In his time of grief There was
comfort here and remembrance, and
sometimes remembrance is not so bit
ter when there is a faint CLEAN of hope
with it.
That was what He thought as he
grew fond of leaning back i'm the easy
split bottom chair of that simple home
one evening after another, until, at
length, "the folks" began to go into
the house earlier than they did at first,
leaving him out there alone with her.
Neither spoke of the dead woman for
a good many weeks. Then, one night,
after they had come back from a long
stroll. when He had said one or two
things that She seemed surprised to
hear She said just before the parting:
IF you don't mind-tomorrow-we
you and will go up thereto the
cemetery you know, and put some
flowers on-on her grave"
He gave a little start. bowed his
head, and said nothing. She Went on:
ut has been a year-a year tomor-
row, and l think"
He put out his hand, and turned his
head away. She stopped, and, after an
awkward hesitation, he said, in
broken way:
"Yes, I had forgotten. We will go
tomorrow"
That night. sitting with the dead
woman's picture in front of him. he
thought it all over. He thought of the
Thousand qualities of heart and mind
that had made the wife Of his youth
the wife of his fancy--his very life ana
soul. He closed his eyes and felt her
presence and heard her speech and,
putting out his hand, hers seemed to
rest within his own broad willing palm
FOR long time-hours, perhaps-he
sat there, and then, when he got up
from his chair he saw, by a strange
chance, picture of the other woman
in another part of the room. AS he
looked, the dead face seemed to cry out
to him. BY degrees, he took courage,
and, picking UP the two photographs.
he laid them side by side. Only for a
moment he looked. Then, with an i'm
precation, he grasped the portrait of
the living woman and tore it into bits
that We're flung into the black, unused
fireplace.
'She shal! not go with me toner.
row." he exclaimed, and the empty
room echoed the words back to him Sc
strangely that he started. 1T is my
grief-not hers-my remembrance-not
hers" he cried, and again the walls re-
peated his words
But the morning rarely keeps the
Hedges of the night. When he arose
after brief, but refreshing, slrea
the sun filled the room. rhe irs:
thing that cought his eyes was the
photograph of the dead woman, and
then he remembered. He 10 )Eed nvcl
into the fireplace, and saw the bits ot
paper that were once her picture.
Il was foolish" he said, slow = slow.
ly, and then, before dressing he wrat
over and picked up all of the bits, and
sitting down. he did not move unit
they were together again-pasted or
a sheet of cardboard. After the mu,
cilage was dry, he took the jaime
photograph and put it in the pocket o