Belding banner. (Belding, Mich.) 1889-1918, 1899-11-09

TeWksbury, and Jones, and Allen, anu
other prophetic ravens OF my acquaint-
ance had said required to my mind,
like the burden OF an uneasy dream.
had been counting the days, the hours,
the very minutes, until we should
touch port; but now that my feet rang
once more upon the pavements OF my
native city, / actually dared not go
home.
l turned into a downtown restaur-
ant, where had been wont to go In
the days OF my bachelorhood, and
skunk into a dark corner; the twilight
was just falling. and l was sheltered
by the partition.
Hush! That was Tewksbury's voice,
harsh and Earring as OF old.
Just what might have been ex-
pected." said Tewksbury. Pretty
young widows don't go begging in this
market"
"Folliott might have known IL"
growled old Farnum. Poor Folliott!
There were some very good points
about him. too. Sad thing. that-very
sad thing"
1--WE must all die" said Tewksbury,
gravely.
Yes; but a fellow would naturally
prefer dying In his bed to being car
ried off by an East Indian fever ana
buried in the jungles."
shuddered. Had then come nome
to my own funeral, as 1t were?
"And she's going to marry young
Birmingham, after ALL" added Far
mum.
The paper dropped from my hand.
Il could have told Folliott so when
heard what COMPOUNDED idiotic VIII
he had made!" said Tewksbury. so
gold has fallen again. Just my luck;
sold out tonight"
/ stayed to hear no more, but stag
gered out into the darkness with one
idea whirling through my dizzy brain
my Clara was mine no longer!
1t was quite true, what TewksDury
had said. l might have anticipated
some such end. She was too young, too
lovely for such a rough old fellow as
l was. My widow-what a curious
sensation the words gave me as
mentally pronounced them!
Under my own windows, with
ruby-red light shining through wine
colored damask curtains. l stood there
feeling as Rip Van Wrinkle might have
felt in the play-like dead man walk
ing the earth once more. Voices and
lights were within. opened the door
softly and crept into the hall.
The drawing-room door was aJar.
Clara herself stood before the fire, in
deep black robes, with frill of white
Grape on her auburn gold tresses-
the awful sign and symbol Of her wild
owhocd. Directly opposite stood Har-
ry Birmingham, looking diabolically
young and handsome in the soft gas
light.
Clara, Clara!" he cried. you sure
ly are not in earnest. You will recon-
sider."
my answer is final" she responded.
THE time might once have been when
you fancied l had childish liking for
you, Harry Birmingham; but that time
has long since passed away. gave my
heart to the best and noblest man that
ever breathed-Paul Folliott-and in
his grave it is forever buried. l loved
hirn once; l shall love him into eter-
nifty! l never was half worthy of
him"
And Clara's voice was choked with
sobs.
MY love-my darling-my own pre-
clcus wife!"
How / ever got into the room-how
managed to make Clara comprehend
that was my own living self, and not
ghost arisen from the shadow of the
sepulcher, / cannot tell to this day
neither can she. But know that young
Birmingham somehow disappeared and
was standing with Clara clasped to
my breast-the happiest man that ever
breathed Gods blessed air.-New York
News.