Iron County register., 1899-08-31

q oman, she said TO herself with %
| half sob. She was convinced that Fer
saltan could not forget so utterly the
| humblest of his slaves. So she put
on her best clothes and tight elastic
! sided boots, with lots of little white but
tons adorning the fronts.
At the Blue house, Dorcas was never
either self-conscious or shy; but when
| she reached her suItan's palace, having
| timidly pushed open the drive gate, she
became aware that the new boots
creaked horribly, and that perspiration
was dropping from her eyebrows into
her eyes. Having mopped her face,
and generally pulled herself together,
she managed to reach the front door,
though her knees trembled and her
heart futtered like Gagged bird
Never was such a noisy bell. Il
changed and echoed in mort alarming g
fashion: she wished that the stone
steps would open and swallow her up.
What would they think of her for dar-
ing to make such a clatter? Besides
and at the dreadful thought she nearly
cried out-of course she ought to have
gone to the back door.
For full five minutes she stood on the
steps, listening to any sound inside
the house. but all was perfectly quiet.
She turned and went into the drive,
meaning to 90 round 10 the back door,
when it occurred to her TO look back at
the house; she had been far too nervous
TO do so as she came in The lower win
dows were shuttered. and all the blinds
were down.
They had gone, then! and it was
empty. And they never didn't bring
i'm TO say goCd-by TO me-"
Life's little tragedies generally hap
pen to the lonely. What in full and
happy life ranks but as an episode be-
comes an epoch in the sad-colored days
OF lean monotony. DorcaS wiped her
eyes more than once on her way home,
and wept heavily for many days. Eli
iah saw that she was fretting. and
tried to distract her by news from
town and occasional suggestions that
she go over ''and see sister law" in
an adjacent village: but beyond her
necessary journeys to town to buy such
stores as she could afford, Dorcas never
left home. She scrubbed the kitchen
table till she grudged TO sully its white
ness by so much as a yellow bowl, and
she made herself a warm new winter
dress. but. for all her industry. the
time hung heavy on her hands, and she
never forgot her little gentleman"
The wet season was followed by an In
dian summer of exceptional beauty
The spirit of October. mild and boon.'
was in the air: the tottering of Cottes-
wold wall, which laid its wayward
length on the far side of the footway,
was covered by sprays of crimson
blackberry. mingled with the fluffy
grayness of ''old mans beard" Dor
cas- no longer started hungrily down
the towing path on Sunday morning,
but she did not forget: and. in token
of her remembrance. the twenty-first
chapter of the Book of Revelation was
marked in her Bible by a little woclen
glove with large hole in the thumb.
Her sultan had dropped it during his
last visit
The birds sang as though it were
spring. and Dorcas began to read aloud
to herself to keep her thoughts from
wandering. And God shall wipe away
all tears from their eyes, whispered
the kind Gloucestershire voice. when
suddenly, above the triumphant voices
of birds. above the soft wash of the wa
ter among the yellowing reeds. rang
that clear sound for which the soul of
Dorcas had hungered so cruelty.
Il wonder if the lady at the Blue
house will know me again. dad?''
It seemed as though the grand vizier
had not been so greatly to blame after
all. He had been suddenly called away
to the north of Scotland. and although
he had left directions that before the
sultan ard the household followed
him that potentate was to be taken to
say good-by Ito the lady at the Blue
house." although the sultan himself
had frequently suggested the propriety
of such pilgrimage, his nurse had al
ways considered the roads TOO muddy.
81 thought, sir, as you was all gone
fur good and ALL said Dorcas. with a
catch in her voice; ''and I were that
taken to I never made no inquiries"
On his way home the grand vizier
was rather silent. Once or twice he
made queer little face. and at last
seemed to swallow something in his
throat. At last he quoted, but not to
the sultan: by heavens, it is pitiful,
the bootIess love of women for children
in Vanity Fair" The rosy-faced child. :
who had been wondering why the usual
Sunday service of gingerbread had
been omitted. was rather surprised, /
but nevertheless asked curiously:
Are you thinking of the Blue house /
lady. dad?"
His father stopped down hastily and /
kissed him--Loagman's Magazine.
Choosing Family Tree.