Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1899-08-29

l 6NtINtuluks LUZ toid rgi tHat An'
my blindness continued 1t would hav
been crime 10 allow her TO throw her
self away on an imperfect and useles
life. But now could, with glad hear
and clear conscience, accept the pre-
cious trust she had 70 nobly offered
On my arrival In England | had gon
TO great oculist. Contrary TO expects
tions he did not give me much comfort
almost resented IL when he told IN
that, despite the temporary improve
ment in my sight, he could not holt
out any definite hope Of recovery. 81
you get better. good and well, " he said
"but you've had q hard time of IL n
the gulf, and the shock was q terribl,
one. It's as well. however, TO tell yot
frankly that. once let there be relapse
and il means that any vitality you
eyes now possess is leaving them for
ever You know the old saying abou
the Pickering Of the candle. T"
Oh, these were cruel words, although
in all truth the great man meant then
kindly enough. However. l only re
mernbered the proverbial caution o.
physicians with regulations TO lose ant
took his verdict for what l thought il
was worth.
One morning received my first let
ter from Norah, but am sure that NJ
chivalrous reader would care TO read IL.
| Suffice it that its tone was cheerful
although she advised me to exercise pa
thence. Could not, she wrote, take NJ
again my old prediction for story
writing reluctantly abandoned be
cause editors were not sufficiently ap
preciativef had now unique expert
ence to draw upon. She had hear
there were typewritiny machines foi
those whose sight was like my own. oil
better still could employ an amanuensiI
for few hours every day. There wa,
nothing so conducive to happiness as q
little work or having hobby, no mat
ter if IL were only keeping rabbits.
Strange TO say, what she suggested
the writing. not the keeping Of rabbits
had been growing upon me for som,
time, until at length IL had become al
most irresistible. In the old days die
not realize that was only writing
about the same commonplace and hack
neyed things that hundreds of other,
were reproducing from their colorles'
lives-colorless like my own-and
which only few, either by reason Of
the subtle spark Of genius or the quick
ming touch Of sorrow. were doing well
Vow felt that in all truth my appren
ticeship had been served h the greatest
Of all mastsrs-experience. / had seer
what 1, falls TO the lot Of but few q
see-I had heard the keynote Of exist
epce In the school of human suffering
and the infinite tenderness and purity Of
true woman's love--the pathos au6
the poetry Of life. All. that were song
worth listening to-one that never
grows old.
As soon as I resolved 10 take mp my
old pursuit again it seemed As II the
workaday world was not 80 very far re
moved from me after all
The month Of June, the town Of
Plymouth and the morning Of the day
when the great Australian liner will
arrive wsh the squatter and his daugh'
ter on board
Truly, I had been dealt mercifully
with. for my sight had not only teen
partially restored, but now my bush
sweetheart was coming TO me; not to
poor, blind. helpless nam, but to one
with health and strength, who did not
want for his share Of the good things OF
this life. Truly. out Of evil good may
come; for when sheer necessity drove
me out into the wild Never Never Land
of tropical Australia I little thought
shat there, Of al places, ! should meet
with her who. 10 me, was to prove 30
much.
There IL gentle breeze ripping the
waters Of the channel, and the blue sky
above IL fecked with heecy clouds.
Stately ships, with all sails set. are
gliding past to disappear again in the
mysterious depths Of the blue horizon.
They remind one Of beautiful sentient
things There is salt sea smack, an
exhilarating vitality in the atmosphere
that seems 10 breath new life into one.
Noon. and Jack, who is now my
brother-in law elect and has met us at
the hotel 20 await the arrival Of the
boat, has strolled out with me to one OF
the old piers in order to kill time. 1t Is
q blazing hot day and in two hours we
20 off together in the tender to meet
the great mailship, and then-but my
heart was too full to think OF il.
We leaned against low wall and
looked out to sea. II was not much ]
could distinguish, but my imagination
filed the void. In q minute or so We
were Joined by my sister Kate l was
Of course glad to see her, and remarked
mischievously:
"Hello, Katel What brings you out
heret"
1The same reason that brings you, sir
something in the air. ! suppose. wa
the unblushing reply.
There was pause for minute, dur
ing which / rested my head in my
hands, for strange drowsiness stole
over me Just then. Still, seeing that
the fever Of expectancy for the past few
nights had caused me to sleep badly,
this did not strike me as odd. became
conscious Of mysterious voice in my
head which sang in unison with hand
organ which kept grinding out "Au'
| tumn Leaves" in a neighboring street.
The lazy lap Of the water, the easy
laughter of some seafaring men pushing
| of in q small boat sounded a. II from
the clouds, and the measured rasping Of
Q saw in carpenters shop hard BY
/ seemed very unreal and far away. Some
one grasped me by the arm. It was
second or two before ! realized 1t wal
Kate.
'Dick, I've brought your green
glasses. You mustn't leave them OF
Just yet. you know. Let me put them
ON you, old boy, at once.
What had come Over me that ! should
think We were some considerable dis
tance apart instead Of being close TO
getheri The voice in my head strucl
up another tune. and the hand organ &C
companied as before The rasping and
hiaing Of the saw. the tapping Of tht
water and the calls Of the Sailors becamt
Q confused jumble Of sound A sudded
chill crept over me. my heart nuttere(
vainfully. . horrible pressnce possssel