Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1906-05-05

tury, as it seemed to her, the trustee
farm hand Of the great Deacon Rem
ton" place.
And the deacon had only consented
to let John go into the camp with the
loggers on the condition that San
should go Also and look after him.
What SICK man would they bring tc
Deacon Renton's door, save one?
What man, save one, would be placed
so completely in the care Of Sam Paine
that he would leave the loggers in that
far-Ch camp 20 their own devices, and
bring n sick or an injured man to the
deacon's home?
Now, Miss Bennett, l can send your
message" said the telegraph clerk.
He started MS she turned toward him.
BLESS me! are you i'll? You are as
pale as corpse, Miss julia" he ex-
claimed.
1--WE had a fright. Some one is out
there, i'll, or dying, or something" She
waved her hand toward the door. "Go
over there and see what it is. I'll
mind the office while you are out"
The clerk was city boy of fifteen,
banished to that country village by his
father, for the benefit of his morals
and manner.
He knew nothing Of the childish love
between John RentOn and the elegant
Miss Bennett, and came hurrying back,
openmouthed and eager to tell his
news.
"They say there has been bad acct
dent up in the logging camp, Miss
Julia"
"Who-whatT she gasped.
young Mr.. Renton and one of his
men. They've brought him home dead,
poor fellow! The other may recover,
but, among other injuries, he has a
broken arm. Oh, it Is a dreadful thing.
Every one Is saying So"
Miss Bennett muttered something
behind her veil that the telegraph
clerk failed to understand, and walked
away.
why, she never sent the message,
after all" he cried. but I've often
heard it said TINT women have no head
for business, and now know it !,y
my own experience"
All through that dreadful day Julia
Bennett sat alone in her own chamber
mourning over the gallant fellow who
had gone away to his death, uncheered
by one kind word or look from her
nay, with his brave heart wrung and
bleeding because of her coldness and
falslty.
DO you know the truth now? Up
in Heaven, Douglass, Douglass, tender
and truew
Those words kept surglng through
her brain until they nearly drove her
mad
At nightfall she could endure her
misery no longer.
Come what would, she must look
upon Johns face once more, even If it
was the face Of the dead!
She wrapped herself in her cloak,
and, avoiding the warm and lighted
Darlor where Grandfather Bennett sat
beside the bright hearth, waiting for
her to make his tea, she hurried out
nto the street, and ran blindly on, until
she reached the Renton house.
The female servant who admitted her
't"reu WIN p"Holad face as she lis
ened to her whispered explanution.
THE master'll know about it, miss"
she said, at last, and threw open the
)arlor door.
A tall figure, bending over the red
freight, in an attitude of deep de-
preston, rose as she entered, and
urned wonderngly toward her.
With a wild scream of joy Julia
bounded forward, and threw herself
lpOn John Renton's breast. a.a.a
ION, L thought you We're dead! They
old me So" she cried.
"No, love. no" said John, holding
Ter clasped in his left arm. Poor
Iichael Paine, Sans brother, was sud-
lenly killed by a falling tree, and
,Ot broken arm and some other in
uries, so that they kept me stupefied
With drugs till reached home. But l |
hall soon be all right-the sooner be-
'ause you have come to me like this"
Grandfather Bennett waited good
lour for his tea. But at the end of the
lour came Julia, radiant and smiling,
With John beside her, and tho tur-
Iuoise ring upon her hand once morel--
Jew York Weekly.