Tazewell Republican. [volume] (Tazewell, Va.) 1892-1919, 1908-01-02
The Rose
Colored Dawn
BY EUGENE BONNIE

Copyright. by Daily Story Pub. Col
Mrs. Malcomb sat In her hammock
on her mothers veranda, gazing
dreamily out upon the clear sheet of
water that lay between the road and
the wooded hills beyond. Her little
son, Raymond, not five years old, was
playing In a pile Of sand near the
house and was building churches with
steeples, domes and windows.
Mother" he cried In childish en-
thusiasm, see what a pretty church
I'm building" and he held out his
dimpled little arm pointing towards
the structure, all complete in his sub
tie imagination.
Yes, my dear" his mother encour-
aged. 1T is very pretty" then re-
turned into the realms Of her dreams.
Inc seven years of her married life
came before her with panoramic vivid
ness. The wedding day among the
June roses, way back as 1t seemed
now, ages ago-then the little trim
across the water to a delightfully."- Sc
questered little summer hotel with but
handful of guests. Then the return
and the home building period, all so
delightful. The second year the ad-
vent OF the stork and the arrival of
the cherub faced little boy. And so
on through year after year till the
time when her husband began to show
signs OF WEAKNESS and restlessness.
Then long hours alone, bitter mo-
ments with something eating into the
very soul OF things. Then the open
rupture OF the Manifestations, and
her E-sbandAs open declaration that
the once honest and dominant love
was now but the last smoke from the
dying embers. The awfulness that
stole into her soul when the truth was
known. Then the separation-as
friends-yet separation. The break
Ing up of the little home, her home
and his-putting away little tokens of
love and affection, storing pieces of
furniture made sacred by association.
The return to her girlhood home, to
her mother and meet the old faces
that seemed an echo from past world.
Only a few miles In the direction
OF her misty gaze lay the large rest
less city. In her mental vision she
saw her husband in his office toiling
and laboring over his papers and sur
rounded with innumerable huge vol
umes Of law books.
The magazine slipped from her lap
to the floor and reused her from her
reverie.
A strange feeling of hopeful inspira-
ton ran through her swaying body
and touched her very soul. It surged
through her with definite resolution
that mother and child should not be
abandoned. not 30 long as she could
lift a finger in their behalf. A new
light shone from her eyes.
Don't go into the street, dear" she
called to the boy, then entered the
house. She returned in a few mo-
ments with pencil and tablet and re-
sumed her place in the hammock and
began writing hurriedly. Half an hour
passed when she looked up, gathered
the sheets Of closely written paper
and began to read what she had writ
ten.
Come, Raymond. be my dear little
fairy messenger. mail this in the post
ONCE" she called.
Mr.. Malcomb, attorney and counsel
lor at law, entered his office earlier
than usual and began asserting his
morning mail. Among the numerous
letters was one whose handwriting
he recognized at glance Taking
his paper knife he ripped the envel-
ope open and extracted the letter. He
read the first page hurriedly and then
put it down and proceeded to deliber-
ately open and read the few remain
Ing letters. This task being complet-
ed, he turned again to the open letter
and began reading calmly and with
deepening interest. His face twitched