The Marion daily mirror. (Marion, Ohio) 1892-1912, 1908-02-29
The Bush Gave Way and He Dropped

buzz OF talk arose, and the old unhap.
py story of Lydia's mother was repeat
ed, with many rustic embellishments.
But Of the question and the ques.
tloner John Cassidy thought not at all
Just as he was getting into the wagon
a new idea flashed upon his mind,
and at once his whole plan fell to
pieces. 1t occurred to him that II he
were gone Lydia would soon coax her
grandmother away to Boston. The
cold sweat came out upon his fore.
head. as he saw how near he had been
to throwing away his own soul, while,
In the very act, thrusting Lydia on.
ward to u swifter ruin.
As he drove slowly along out of the
village and into the wide, twilight
country, his head dropped lower over
the reins. 1t was characteristic Of
the measureless unselfishness OF the
man that now, having. as he truly be.
lieved, just escaped with his soul, he
was not glad His brain lay dumb as a
log in the black wilderness of dejec-
tion.
The country road was winding and
variable, with here swampy hollow
and there rocky steep. Al last the
moon came up, red, full and distort-
ed, and stared John Cassidy in the
face. The jogging horse. the lean,
high wagon, and the bent form on the
seat cast grotesquely dancing shadows
hnhinI fhnp, 4
rampikes cast other shadows, which
pointed straight at John Cassidy in
solemn stiffness and with strange
unanimous meaning. The wagon
reached a spot where the road was
narrow, with little bridge and steep
bank on one side. John Cassidy's face
lit up, He stopped the horse and
looked down at the confusion of stones
some six or eight feet below, with I
rivulet prattling thinly just beyond
them.
"If l kind of drop myself over
there" said he, meditatively, Il amt
goin' to run no great resk of KILN
myself No. sir! It'll break an arm
or leg, maybe, or put shoulder out
o jint,-enough to lay me up, that's
all. With her grandfather a cripple
here he WINGED, and looked around as
II some one else had spoken the
hated word in his ear,-"with me a
cripple, say" he repeated, obstinate.
ly, Lydia couldn't never think of
goin away"
He got out of the wagon, told the
horse to so home, and struck him
lightly with the whip.
Even IL kin hold her back a year
or so,' mused John Cassidy, still look.
ing down at the stones. its worth the
while. She'll have sense, will Lydia,
when she gifts little older. wonder,
now, II Job III git the potatoes in all
right 'thout my help, an not mix the
upland crop with them from the wet
medder field?"
Now that he saw his way clear to
the rescue Of Lydia, the farmers
natural anxietles about the harvest
again seized upon John Cassidy's
mind; but only for an instant; the
hSA' hS iSt ONtT the
bank, half'turning back as he fell,
and clutching nervously at wayside
bush. The bush gave way at once,
and he dropped heavily among the
stones. In an instant he was on his
feet again. staring around In a dazed
way, and wondering how it was that
he could stand up. Jumping to the
conclusion that the fall had done him
no injury he made start as II to
climb back and try 1t again. But his
knees failed, and he ground his teeth
with sudden pervading anguish,
while the red moon seemed to reel
and totter amid the tree tops. Then
consciousness faded from his brain.
Meanwhile the old horse had logged
faithfully homeward. The re'ns, slip
ping from the dashboard, traiied along
the ground. till the horse turned in