Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1907-02-09

summer morning, closing the door noise
lessly behind him, that he might not dis
turb his wife above. She was in delicate
health, and he had left her asleep. He
was on his way to a sick parishioner,
now lying in danger.
When Mrs. Baumgarten awoke, not
long afterward, she lay thinking of
dream she had just had. So real and
vivid did it seem that at first she won
dered where she was, and looked round at
the familiar objects Of the bed chamber
in doubt.
why, it was only dream " she ex-
claimed. 81 am at home, and in my own
bed"
Presently she got up, and dressed her
self with trembling fingers She was
weak, and langud, and hot; always in
fever now. Looking about for the coolest
dress she had, she put it on; black and
white muslin. They were in mourning
for Mrs Dane She had died the previous
winter. Summer had come round again,
and it was nearly a year now since
Edith's marriage.
When she had quite inished-dressing
and reading, and prayers-she sat down
in an easy chair before the open window,
letting the sweet morning air fan her hec-
tic face. The sun shone in the blue sky
the scent of newmown hay came from
a near meadow, the hum of bees sounded
drowsly in the heat; butterflies fluttered
across the green lawn from flower to
flower.
As the clock struck Mr. Baumgarten
returned, he nodded TO Edith from the
garden. came in, and ran upstairs. 1t
was their breakfast hour. II hoped to
find you asleep STILL Edith" he said Il
wish you would breakfast in bed y
"Oh, Ryle | could not; | am glad to
be up bed tires me, | think. Ryle," she
said, smiling, Il have had such a lovely
dream"
Indeed! 1t is not often you dream.
What was itT
when Charlotte and | were children,
she used to tell her dreams of a morning.
| felt quite jealous, because l never had
any to tell
well, what was this one"
81 thought | had long, long journey
to take, and rs | set out from the door
here and walked down the path to the
gate. | looked round and saw you in the
parlor alone. don't know where | went,
or which way; it was all strange to me.
It seemed as if | went miles and miles
and miles more than | can reckon; more
than there are miles in the world. But.
Oh ! the way was lovely. The air was so
light and balmy that | seemed to float
along in an ecstasy. The most enchant-
ing flowers, sweeter and loyelier and more
brilliant than we can imagine out of a
dream, grew on each side the way. 1t
seemed that | had never known before
what happiness was, what enjoyment
meant; and it was all so vivid that when
| awoke l thought it was reality
"A pleasant dream" remarked Mr..
Baumgarten. How did it end?'
1T had no ending. | was still gliding
along amidst the flowers when l awoke.
1t took me ever so long to realize that
was in my own bed and had not gone on
that beautiful Journey"
Il hope the journey has made you
hungry" he lightly said. breakfast must
be waiting
That dream occurred on Friday morn !
ing. 1t was the last Friday in June /
On the Tuesday morning following, Edith
Baumgarten was lying in extreme peril .
the doctors giving little hope of her life. |
Mr.. Baumgarten was sitting by her
bedside, holding her hand in his; his tears
were kept back, his voice was low with
suppressed grief. do not say we have
been happy my darling say we are |
cannot part with you; there is hope yet"
There is none," she wailed-"there Is
none. Oh, Ryle, my husband, it will be
a hard parting"
She feebly drew his face to hers, and
his tears fell upon it. Edith, if | lose
you, l shall lose all that Is of value to me
in life"
Ito be continued.)