The daily morning Alaskan., 1900-10-26
TIE UADELNERED LETTER

"Why, it's to old Preacher Carterw said some one.
 How do you know" asked another.
 Why. it's Daniel H. Carter. and his names Daniel Henry. It must have been sent years before he went to preach ing. Let's open it"
 Open it?" said the second speaker. "Is that letter addressed to you? No, sir. It's addressed to Daniel H. Carter, and he's the only man who has any right to it's contents. That envelopes, got Il United States stamp on 1t, and l don't care how long it's laid there. It means protection to whatever it carries. That stamp would hold good day after judg- ment."
 The upshot of it all was that the letter was sent across to the building which had been fitted up and was doing service as postofiice in lieu of the old one and sent out by the carrier who had the Rev Daniel H. Carter upon his route.
 The Rev. Mir. Carter was an easy, good natured bachelor and had been pastor at Centervile for almost all the years since he ret ,rned from creditable service as chapla'1 of a regiment during the civil war. It was true that he had passed by all the relgiously inclined spinsters and charitable widows in the town, but in spite of this almost unpardonable offensc he was well loved and deeply revered, and the church, with the experience of many years, had grown used to its bache- Tor parson.
 That morning when the postman rang his bell he went to the door and received his letter with his usual smile and Thank you."
 To him the envelope seemed rather dusty on one edge and bit old fashion ed. he imagined, but, then, some years had passed over the Rev. Daniel Carter's head and his sight WAS not so good as it had once been. So, without curiosity, he laid the Hetter down on his study table and went down to breakfast.
 The bread, butter and eggs were par ticularly good that morning, and the tea was just to his taste, so perhaps the min ister fingered little longer at his morn ing meal than was usual. It was at any rate a rather long time for man who had on his study table letter which had been on the way for nearly 35 years.
 But at last the pastor made an end of eating and again sought his study. He picked up the letter and adjusted his glasses with leisurely care. He glanced at the postmark and let his eye roam over the address, but he did not seem to see well, so he took off his glasses, rub bed and polished them and set them on his nose again.
 He looked at the handwriting, and as his hand went up to smooth his brow a flash of recognition came into his eyes. His hand dropped quickly. and he looked at the postmark again. Then, with a sudden gasp and the precipitation stand ing out upon his brow, he dropped into a chair. Only for a moment he sat there staring into vacancy, and then with trem- bling fingers he tore the missive open and devoured its contents with his eager eyes.
 When he had finished if. the letter dropped from his grasp, and he put his hands over his face. His frame shook with sobs and the tears trickled between his fingers. When his paroxysm of grief had about subsided, his voice came muf- fled from behind his hands in these words:
 Great God. thank thee that thou hast revealed to me this thing.'
 He picked the letter up and read it again. It ran:
 BELMONT
 my DckE DaHlri-WHal! lO COHlc hhu tell me youself Tmid boyl Have you not that love youG It shames my maidenhood to write thus; but, as you say, can write 80 much more boldly than one can talk. Yes, will be your wife. Come to when you will; it cannot be too soon ELIZABETH DEERISG.
 Elizabeth, zabethw cried the min ister. How l have paid for my coward ice. 1 thought you had met my proposal with scorn and deemed it unworthy even of an answer, and l was glad to go into the heat of battle and care for the suffer ing and dying, to bury the dead and-to try to forget But in all these years have not forgotten"
 Then suddenly q thought occurred to him. and he sat bolt upright in his chair. A moment after he had his hat on and was out of the house. Had any of his congregation met him as he went wildly flying down to the station they would sadly have considered the advisablity of retaining such a pitifuly demented crea- ture as the pastor. His hat was set far back on his head, his hair flying and his coat open wide and an open letter AA'- ing in his hand, He took the train for Belmont. The two towns were so much nearer than they were 30 years ago.
 They had grown, and he was hardly out of the suburbs of one before he was into the suburbs of the other.
 In the middle of Belmont they set him down. Could any one tell him where a Miss Deering lived? He asked the ques- ton with trembling and failing voice. It had been past 30 years ago, you know.
 Miss Deering-what! Miss Lizzie Deering? Why, any one can tell you where good Miss Lizzie Deering lives. It's right at the end"-
 Rut the interrogated Belmontain stood staring at the man who had dashed off in the direction pointed out before he had had time to finish his sentence.
 Who shall tell what subtle instinct drew the minister to the right door? A sweet faced, gray haired woman was sit ting near a table sewing. At the unan- nounced and impetuous entrance of her visitor she half rose and turned very pale,
 "Elizabeth, Elizabeth" cried the preacher. "I have just got your letter"
 Miss Deering let her sewing fall.
 'T thought you did not care for me. and have lived all these years so near you without daring to say word" :.
 He handed her the letter, and as they held it between them tears dropped upon 1t.
 "Elizabeth, is it too late?" he said.
 q have waited" she said. 'because believed in you. knew that something had happened that through the nrists we could not see. I I have kept my love fresh and green, Daniel"
 That afternoon she went back with him to the parsonage. e.--Exchange,
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