Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1905-03-15

the past was blank in memory Old
Cy he recalled we'll enough. In fact
and it was curious-his coming there
appeared 10 strike him as perfectly
natural, and in a few days they became
like two old schoolboys playing at
keeping house. I'll wager at this very
moment they are content and talking
about their traps, the squirrels, and
how thick the ice is on the lake, OF
how deep the snow is. They once were
natural-born companions in outdoor
sports and such ways of living, and
now are Joined enjoying the same
again. took old Cy along solely to
identify this hermit, but builded wiser
than I knew, and It turned out more
than fortunate. I was also so sure
had found AMI thar I took in extra
clothing for him, and before left
sent our guides to a settlement fol
more provisions and needful articles
It was by one of them that sent you
that birch-bark letter, for was with
out even pencil. We also repaired
and improved the cabin; built an ad-
dition for the guide I left there for
emergencies: they have meat and food
supplies for year, and when spring
comes, I'll take you and Aunt Comfort
to pay them a visit. To go there now
is impossible, except to hardy woods
man on snOwshoes, for the only high
ways are locked by ice in that high
latitude, and snow is likely to be foot
or more deep. thought of all man
could to make your poor father safe
and comfortable, and believe he is.
will do anything you ask, will take
you and Aunt Comfort there when
possible, and then you must judge what
is best to he done. If old Cy's compan-
ionship has the effect I hope it will
on him, he may be changed into q
more normal state of mind, and ready
and even anxious to return to civil1za-
ton. The long years Of solitary life
have made him almost demented,
however, and nearly obliterated even
the memory of you.'
Much more-already known-was r.
lated by Martin, and when the even
Ing ended, a few words of defense for
her own resolution were uttered by
Angie, and must also be quoted.
"You have rendered my poor father
and myself" she said, "a service for
which all you ask of me is no more
than just reward. Some day it shall be
yours. And now as partial payment
I will tell you what has never passed
my lips, and Gods truth.
"Once and when q silly girl grew
into strangely sweet illusion. did
not know what it meant then, but
blindly believed it must last for life,
and that you would seem and be ever
the same to me. It was selfish, az
first love always is, but did not know
1t. Now do, and that the only love
worth calling such means self-sacri-
flee. Then you went away, and I tried
to forget you. It was useless, for none
can force thought or feeling either to
come or to go. For yeas I suffered
as all fondly foolish girls must, and
in silence. It was like the Saviour'a
cross to me, and I helpless to escape
its burden. In time and by trying to
assume others burdens, my own
seemed lighter. l have never COM
planned, for 1t was useless. could
not will you back If l tried, and the
only peace I found was in living for
Aunt Comfort and my pupils. At first
l hoped You might return some day.
but finally forced that hope away.
Other men and good ones tried to whis-
per love to me. It made no di:fer-
ence, for ! felt no response. Ger
tainly would have done so IL I could,
but could not. It seemed to me God
had willed me to live my life alone
and for others, and even now I feel
the same. Your finding my father.