The Yale expositor. (Yale, St. Clair County, Mich.) 1894-current, 1900-11-16


startle the natives in the far away
town during his enforced idleness. He
knew one crack-brained youth there
who readily joined in the scheme and
secured for him the necessary intro
auctions. Rumors began to fly thick
and fast, that the young woman and
the erstwhile millionaire were living
in far Off city and-and There had
been no marriage ceremony whateveI
The fool did not get angry with her.
He heard it.; oh yes, some of his
friends TOOK pains that he should
know all about it. But he felt sorry
for her. The old love had given way
to pity; he knew just now she hal
been duped and was afterwards power
less TO return home. from whence she
would have been cast out, and still
more powerless to compel the man
who had deceived her to make repara-
ton.
One day the fool got letter dated
from city in the far off West. 1t was
miserable, tear-stained scrawl from
her. The end had come. She was
alOne-deserted. She was sick and sad
and penniless. She begged the fool for
one line OF forgiveness, for she could
not die without it, and ole she would,
for the disgrace, the shame, tho self
contempt were more than she could
stand-she had resolved to end it ALL
Her letter was long one. She did not
make excuses, and had nothing to offer
in extenuation, but she saw the awful
mistake she had made.
The fools month was up that even
ing. He drew his salary and went to
his lonely lodgings. He did not light
the lamp, but sat down in the dark
ness and silence to think over the dead
days-those when he had been happy
He could remember her, bright and
innocent, end taking so much delight
in the plans they laid for their future
life, the thousand and one ways in
which his heart tendrils twined about
everything in the least connected with
her.
Then he thought of her as she was,
and an ineffable pity came into his
soul and abided there. And her fate,
what was it to be-a plain pine coffin
and a lonely, unmarked mound of clay
in the potter's field? The city clock
doomed the hour of twelve. Still he
sat and thought-and thought. What
good was his life anyway? No matter
how things went, he would have his
cross to carry. The hours were tolled
by the clock, and the tomb-like chill of
approaching morning was in the air.
Even the cricket on the hearth had
ceased its lonely Song, and the mice
had long since stopped scampering
about the room and over his feet.
The gray dawn at last broke over
the wilderness of chimneys and roofs,
and found him with his head pillowed
upon his arms, and resting upon the
table. A tea or two hau crept down
his face-the traces were still there.
He looked old, and wan, in the pallid
twilight, ans his face was dawn and
haggard with silent suffering, but
there was new light in his eyes
1t was almost five o'clock. The
train for the West left at half past.
He paused, irresolute. Then he threw
some wearing apparel in a grip. He
wrote a short note to his employer
telling him that he was going away
to be married and would never return,
and as the first rays of the rising sun
gilded the great steeple upon the ca
thedral the train glided swiftly out TO-
wards the distant city. The fools
gaze remained upon the cross as long
nc 1t was in sight, and then without
regret he took y the cross he had as-
sumed.