Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1902-10-04
], COLE,
By EMMA GELLIBRAND.
".

By EMMA GELLIBRAND.
And now I must confess to those-for
surely there will be a few-who have felt
little interest so far in the fortunes of j.
Cole, that period in my story has arrived
when I would fain lay down my pen, and
not awaken the sleeping past, to recall the
sad trouble that befell him.
I am almost an old woman now, and all
this happened many years ago, when my
hair was golden instead of silver. I was
younger in those days, and now am peace
fully and hopefully waiting Gods good time
for my summons Troubles have been my
lot many and hard to bear. Loss of hus-
band, children, dear, good friends, many by
death, and some troubles harder even than
those, the loss Of trust, and bitter awaken
ing to the ingratitude and worthlessness Of
those in whom have trusted. All these l
have endured. Yet time and trouble have
not sufficiently hardened my heart that I
can write of what follows without pain.
Christmas was over, and my dear hus-
band again away for some months. AS
soon as l could really say Spring is here"
We were to leave London for our country
home, and Joe was constantly talking to
Mrs. Wilson about his various pets, left be-
hind in the gardeners care. There was an
old jackdaw, an especial favorite of his; a
miserable owl, too, who had met with an
accident, resulting in the loss of an eye; a
more cNll-lOOhlUS OUJeCl SyClOpS,
as my husband christened him, l never
saw. Sometimes on dark night this one
eye would CLEAN luridly from out the shad
owy recesses of the garden. and an I'M
earthly cry of ''Hoo-oo-t" fall on the ear,
enough to give one the "creeps for an
hour" as Mary the housemaid, said. But
Joe loved Cyclops, or rather "Cloppy," as
he called him, and the bird hoped after
Joe about the garden as if he quite re-
turned the feeling.
All our own dogs, and two or three MAIN
ID ones, and a cat or two, more or less hid
eous, and indebted to Joe's mercy in res
cuing them from traps, snares, etc.-all
these creatures were Joe's delight. Each
week the gardeners boy wrote few words
to Joe OF their health and wonderful do
ings. and each week Joe faithfully sent a
shilling to be laid out in food for them.
Then there was JoeS especial garden, also
sort OF hospital, or convalescent home
rather, where many biighted, unhealthy
looking plants and shrubs, discarded by the
gardener and cast aside to be burnt on the
weed heap, had been rescued by Joe, pa
tiently nursed and petted it We're into
life again by constant care and watching,
and after being kept in pots while, TIL
they showed, by sending forth some tiny
shoot or bud, that the sap of life was once
more circulating freely, were then planted
In the sheltered corner he called his own"
What treasures awaited him in this small
square OF earth. What punches of violets
he would gather for the missis; and his
longing to get back 20 hts various pets, and
his garden, was the lppic of conversation
Oh many long evening between Joe and
Mrs. Wilson. 3
Little Bogie, the fox terrier, was the only
dog We had with us In town, and Bogle
hated London. After the quiet country life,
the incessant roll OF carriages, tramping Of
horses, and callinSS OF coachmen, Shriil ca b
whistles, and all the noises of fashion
able neighborhood at night during London
season, were most Objectionable to Bogie;
he could not rest, and often Joe got out Of
m ha nj tool hiyrnt p h t,
to prevent his waking all OF US, with his
shrill barking at the unwonted sounds.
AS have said before, l am very nervous,
and the prospect of spending several more
weeks in the big London house, without my
husband, was TAR from pleasant; so | in
vited my widowed sister and her girls to
stay with me some time longer, and made
up my mind to Danish my fears, and think
or nothing but that the dark nights would
be getting shorter and shorter. and mean
While our house was well protected as far
as good strong bolts and chains could do SO.
one night l felt more nervous than usual.
l had expected a letter from America for
some days past. and none had arrived. On
this evening | knew the mail was due, and
l waited anXiously for the last ring of the
postman at 10 o clock; but l was doomed to
listen in vain; there was the sharp, loud
ring next door, but not at ours, and l went
to my room earlier than the others, really
to give way to a few tears that l could not
control.
oot Ny MY Deu IOotl llIe, lllHhiNS, dllo
am afraid conjuring up all sorts OF ter
riDle reasons for my dear husbands silence,
until must have fallen asleep, for l awoke
chilly and cramped from the uncomfortable
posture l had slept in. The fire was out,
ana the house silent as the grave; not even
a carriage passing to take up some late
guest. l looked at the clock-half past J,
and then from my window. 1t was that
darkest hour before dawn" and l hur-
rled into bed and endeavored to sleep; but
no, l was hopelessy awake; no
amount Of counting or mental exercise on
the subject Of sheep going through a
nedge had any effect and l found myself
lying awake. listening. Yes, l knew that
was listening for something that L should
hear before long, but l did not know what.
Hark! what was that? a sudden thud,
as II something had fallen somewhere in
the house; then silence, except for the
loud beating of my heart, that threatened
to SURROGATE me- Nonsense" l said to my
self, Il am foolishly nervous tonight. 1t
Is nothing here, or Bogie would mark
trled again to sleep. Hush! Surely that
was 1ootstep going up or down the stairs!
couId not endure the agony Of being alone
any longer, but would go to my sisters
ROOM just across the landing, and get her
10 come and stay the rest of the night with
me. put on my slippers and dressing
gown, ana opening my door, came face to
lace with my sister, who was coming to
Let me come in," she said, land don't
LEI US alarm the girls, but l feel certain
parked furiously an hour ago, and then was
suddenly silent"
ihat must have been when was asleep"
p