Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1906-09-29

er the children, and He felt n
sudden stab at his heart That
pain ?ah! he remembered. One of the
fatal symptoms he had read in the train
Yet again. He mt
his hand quickly to his breast, and then
consciousness left him!
1t was all so unexpected, and unusual,
too, for man dies but once. At first he
imagined himself the victim of a trance.
but something told him all too plainly
1t was not that, but death The one
thing predominant was great calm, a
magnificent peace.
John Desmond's life had not been
wasted one; there We're few sins on his
conscience. His wife and children had
adored him; he had become indispensable
to their existence. In vague, dim way
he had looked upon departure from the
earthly sphere as dread ordeal. some
thing to be feared, spoken of with bated
breath. hazy, awful uncertainty. Did
his living fellowmen but realize that life
remains life always!
The moment he died his mental vision
became suddenly transformed. Like a
man viewing a city afar off and graspimg
/ its general plan at a glance, so Des-
mond's aspect of life ali at once became.
comprehensive. The sorrow of his wife
and children tried him sorely and yet he
felt-he knew-there was a good reason
for their bereavement.
Annette, Mays sister, proved the first
caller in the morning after his demise.
She spoke in awe struck whispers, clasp
ing his wife in her arms. He had never
known her so affectionate.
"Oh, | am sorry! With you it was so
different. Jack was real husband; he
loved you. 1--we never known what
that meant"
A sigh seemed to rend her soul. and
Desmond, had he been mortal. would have
swallowed a sob. Here, in the stately
grandeur of death, the tangled skein of
life slowly unwound itself Annette,
whose lot few hours since he had en-
We'd for his wifes sake, lacked one thing
that which before all else was essential
to her happiness.
And to his surprise the knocks at the
street door that morning were over
whelming-the inquiries of the Smiths.
Browns and Robinsons In his previous
existence he had regarded their neighbors
with cynical liberation; their formal
ties had both amused and irritated him.
But the expressions of sympathy were
well chosen, and behind the stereotyped
words Desmonds spirit detected a real
and genuine ring. How mistaken he had
been-hitherto he had only been alive to
the less cOmmendable elements of his
fellowmen. Unfortunately he was power
less now to remedy the mistakes of the
past.
Poor May, she was having a terrible
time. but as yet no opportunity TO
brood And towards evening, as the
shadows heightened in the house, making
the semi darkness of the blind drawn
room darker still, there was resounding
rat-tat outside. Energy and decision re-
vealed itself in the welding of the knock
er, and Desmond--or, rather, the spirit
that once occupied his frame-wondered
who the caller could be. But as the door
opened he recognized at once the forceful
if youthful tones of Werkins.
Mrs. Desmond, | presumed ! have
called to see your husband He didn't
turn up today; l thought, perhaps, he
wasn't we'll"
And then he broke off, as the look on
Mays tear-stained face seemed to denote
something was wrong.
Come ill.," murmured the low, trem-
bnng voice. There's been no time to
communicate with the office. Mr.. Por-
rett sent you, | expects"
"Oh no; | came on my own. Des-
monds one of the best. Isn't he well ?"
An agitated tone came to his voice as
he awaited reply. And then May burst
into tears.
What is it, Mrs. Desmond? Nothing
serious, surely?"
MY husbands dead"
The young fellow dropped onto a chair,
limp as rag.
Dead! No, no, Mrs. Desmond! There's
some mistake. 1t can't bel"
May told him slowly what had hap
pened. and then Werkins buried his face
in his hands to sob like child.
Desmond's spirit marveed. He had
looked upon Werkins as one of those
energetic beings who carried everything
before them, regardless of others feel
ngs, in whom such weakness as senti-
ment was unknown. And yet he was
cut up to hear of his colleagues DEATH
1t was comforting to know that someone
was sorry he would sit at the old desk no
longer. lie had considered that none out
side his own domestic circle would ever
miss his presence. shed tear of regret
at his absence. What other revelations
were in store?
Werkins had left about an hour; the
children, with solemn, awe struck faces,
had gone to bed, when there was yet an
other summons at the door. Desmond
felt sorry for the dainty, petite figure
who had faced things so bravely that
louU heart breakinu day Slowly hpr
steps went along the hall and once more
she opened the door. And again to Des-
mond the voice was familiar.
Good evening. madam. We've met
once before, think? | must apologize
for calling at this late hour
The short, Immediately dressed gen
tleman, with shining silk hat and we'll
cut garments, jerked the sentences out in
III ,..i..n IL.