Walker Lake bulletin. (Hawthorne, Nev.) 1883-1926, 1902-01-03


ny's letter Rose herself had once feehly
traced the words, "Come, brother-do
come" he still fingered, as II boand by
spell he could not break. And so days
went by, AMI night succeeded night until
the bright May morning daWned, the last
Rose could ever see. Slowly up the
eastern horizon came the warm spring
sun, and as its red beams danced for
time upon the wall of Roses chamber
she gazed wistfully upon it, murmuring
ut is the last-the last that will ever rise
| for me-
William Bender was there. He had
come the night before. bringing word that
Henry would follow the next day. There
was a gay party to which he had prom
ised to attend Miss Herndon, and he
deemed that a sufficient reason why Re
should neglect his dying sister.
IF Henry does not come" said Rose,
| tell him it was my last request that lie
| turn away from the wine cup, and say
that the bitterest pang | felt in dying
was a fear that my only brother should
| fill Il drunkard's grave. He cannot look
upon me dead and feel angry that wish
ed him to reform. And as he stands over
my coffin, tell him to promise never again
to touch the deadly poison"
! Here she became too much exhausted.
to say more, and soon after fell into a
quiet sleep. When she awolle her father
was sitting across the room, with his
! head resting upon the window sill, while
her own was pillowed upon the strong
arm of George Moreland, who bent ten-
derly over her, and soothed her as he
would a child. Quickly her fading check
! glowed, and her eye sparkled with some-
thing of its olden light; but George
George was all she had strength to say,
and when Mary, who had accompanied
| him, approached her she only knew that
she was recognized by the pressure of the
little blue-yeined hand, which soon drop
ped heavily upon the counterpane, while
the eyelids closed languidly, and with
the words, "He will not come" she again
| slept, but this time twas the long, deep
sleep from which she would never awak-
| en-.
Slowly the shades of night fell around
the cottage. Softly the kind-hcarted
neighbors passed up and down the mar
row staircase, ministering first to the
dead, and then turning aside to weep as
they looked upon the bowed man, who
with his head upon the window sill, still
sat just as he did when they told him she
was dead. At his feet on a little stool
was Jenny, pressing his hands, and coy
ering them with the tears she for his
sake tried in vain to repress.
At last, when it was dark without, and
| lights were burning upon the table, there
was n sound of some one at the gate,
and in a moment Henry stepped across
the Threshold but started and turned
pale when he saw his mother in violent
Mysteries upon the lounge, and Mary
Howard bathing her head and trying to
soothe her. Before he had time to ask
a question, Jennys arms were wound
around his neck, and she whispered,
Rose is dead. Why were you so late"
He could not answer. He had nothing
| to say, and mechanically following his
sister he entered the room where Rose
had died. Very beautiful had she been
in life, and now, far more beautiful in
death, che looked like a piece of sculp-
tured marble, as she lay there so cold
and still, and all unconscious of the scald-
ing tears which fell upon her face as
! Henry bent over her, kissing her lips and
calling upon her to awake and speak to
| him once more.
When she thought he could bear it
| Jenny told him of all Rose had said, and
by the side of her coffin, with his hand
resting upon her white forehead, the COLI
science stricken young man swore that
never again should ardent spirits of any
| kind pass his lips, and the father, who
stood by and heard that VOW, felt that il
it were kept his daughter had not died
in vain.
The day following the burial George
and Mary returned to Chcopee. and as
the next day was the one appointed for
the sale of Mr.. Lincoln's farm and eoun-
| try house, he also accompanied them.
| ''Sappose you buy it." said he to
George as they rode over the premises.
"I'd rather you'd own it than to see it
in the hands Of strangers"
81 intended doing So" answered
| George, anl when at night he was the
owner Of the farm, house and furniture,
he generously offered it to Mr.. Lincoln
rent free, with the privilege of redeemins
| it whenever he could.
This was SO unexpected that Mr.. Lin
coin at first could hardly find words TO
| express his thanks, but when he did he
accepted the offer, saying, however that
he could pay the rent, and adding that
he hoped two or three years OF hard labor
| in California. whittier he intended going,
would enable him to purchase it back.
! On his return to Glcnwood he asked
| William, who was still there, "how he
would like to turn farmer for awhile"
"Oh, that'll be nice said Jenny, whose
love for the country was as strong as
ever. And then. Willie, when pa comes
back we'll so to Boston again and prac-
tce law, you and IL
William pressed the little fat hand
which had slid into his, and replied that,
much as he would like to oblge Mr.. Lin
coin, he could not willingly abandon his
profession in which he was succeeding
even beyond his most sanguine hopes.
But" said he 81 think | can find good
substitute in Mr.. Parker, Vito is anxious
to leave the poorhouse. He is an honest,
thorough going man, and his wife, who is