The Middleburgh post. [volume] (Middleburgh, Snyder Co., Pa.) 1883-1916, 1902-05-29
CHAPTER ".

Mis-. NAV OK = SlOkl.
I"0UE days that followed the
Black Rock Christmas were
E-571 anxious days and weary. but
lSSAJ not for the brightest of my
after the burning heat or rocking storm
the dying day lies beautiful in the ten
der glow of the evening so these days
have lost their weariness and lie bath
ed in n misty glory. The years that
bring US many ills and that pass so
stormfully over us bear away with
them the uglincss, the weariness the
pain, that are theirs, but the beauty,
the sweetness, the rest, they leave un-
touched, for these are eternal. As the
mountains, that near at hand stand
jagged and SCARED, in the far distance
reposed in their soft robes of purple
haze, so the rough present fades into
the past, soft and sweet and beautiful.
/ have set myself TO recall the pain
and anxiety Of those days and nights
when We waited in fear for the turn
Of the fever, but can only think Of the
patience and gentlencss and courage Of
her who stood beside me, bearing more
than half my burden. And, while can
see the face Of Leslie Graeme, ghastly
or flushed. and hear his low moaning
or the broken words of his delirium, I
think chiefly Of the bright face bending
over him and of the cool, firm, swift
moving hands that soothed and smooth
cd and rested, and the voice, like the
soft song Of bird in the twilight, that
never failed to bring peace.
Mrs. Mavor and were much toSeth-
er during those days. made my home
in Mr.. Craig's shack, but most Of my
time was spent beside my friend. We
did not see much of Craig, for he was
heart deep with the miners, laying
plans for the making of the league the
following Thursday, and, though he
shared our anxiety and was ever
ready to relieve us, his thought and
his talk had mostly to do with the
league
Mrs. MavOr's evenings were given to
the miners, but her afternoons mostly
TO Graeme and to me, and then it was
l saw another side of her character
We would sit in her little dining room,
where the pictures on the walls, the
quaint old silver and bits of curiously
cut glass all spoke of other and diff
ferent days. and thence we would roam
the world of literature and art. Keenly
20 n1l hn ifYI
in these, she had her favorites among
the masters, for whom she was ready
10 do battle, and when her argument.
instinct with fancy and vivid imagina-
ton, failed she swept away all oppos-
ing opinion with the swift rush Of her
enthusiasm, so that, though ! felt she
was beaten. ] was left without words
30 reply. Shakespeare and Tennyson
and Burns she loved, but not Shelley
or Byron or even Wordsworth. Brown
ing she knew not and therefore could
not rank him with her noblest three,
but when ! read TO her "a Death In
the Desert" and came to the noble
words at the end OF the tale,
Lies as he once lay. breast TO breast with
Cod"
the light shone in her eyes, and she
said: "Oh, that is good and great!
shall get much out Of him. / had al
ways feared he was impossible" And
AParacelsus." too, stirred her. But
when l recited the thrilling fragment,
''Prospice." on TO that closing raptur-
~2s cry,
"Thcn light. then thy breast
oh, thou soh Of my soul. i shall clasp
thee again.
And with God be the rest!'
The red color faded from her cheek, her
breath came in a sob, and she rose
quickly and passed out without word.
Ever after Browning was among her
gods. But when we talked OF music
she, adoring Wagner, scared upon the