The Caucasian. (Clinton, N.C.) 188?-1913, 1912-07-11

work. THIS poor. puZZle0 Drain Will
think straight Just think how fine
IL will be 10 work, To work, say.
Nothing but a load on the wagon
down here-nothing but load. Up
there I'll get into the traces and help
| with the pulling"
The old man stumbled on, and as
| the pastor helped him carefully down
the steps, Mrs. Wilmarth fastened
| away.
Upon reaching home she prepared
dinner, and then sat down to walt
the coming of her husband, who had
remained, as usual, for the Sunday
school service
There is no use counting on his
coming home promptly" she unused.
David Wilmarth will stay TO shake
hands with every one in the church.
Then he will attend committee
meeting or two, and finally walk
around home with DR.. Dean to help
plan out more work"
"Don't-work, don't-work, don't
work." ticket out the old clock on
, the wall.
AS Harriet Wilmarth sat thus, con-
graduating herself on her new-found
| freedom from the bondage Of service,
condemning her husband for re-
spending to every call for labor, even
pleasing her fancy by reading into
the ticking of the faithful old clock a
reiterated echo of her own thoughts,
suddenly there was whispered in her
ear the one command that is never
gainsaid or denied: Come with
me-"
The angel who whispered the COM
mand took her hand and led her, I'M
resisting, from her loved home, from
the well-known streets, away from
the dear, familiar earth. To Har-
riet the journey seemed long as
measured by space, but accomplished
in an instant of time.
Their destination reached, the
angel messenger, who, inexpressibly
lovely in appearance, seemed very
sad, suddenly disappeared, and Har-
riet Wilmarth found herself alone in
new and wonderful environment.
She possessed no words to describe
the beauties that surrounded her.
Grace of form and harmony of color
made every perspective enchanting.
1t seemed to her delightful eyes that
everything beautiful in nature had
found here expression and realization
in thousandfold perfection. Trees,
with glimpses of velvet fields be-
tween, the shining silver of a distant
lake, and the translucent waters of
quiet river flowing past the bank on
which she misunderstanding was
perfect with that consummate full
ness of perfection that rebukes the
very thought of improvement or
change.
After long contemplation a feel
ing of unrest seized her, and she was
shaken with an emotion akin to fear.
What could be amiss,' she asked
herself, Gin the midst of this lowell
ness?" 1t seemed like sacrilege to
harbor feelings of dissatisfaction,
and yet-premonitions of safety,
even of ennui, rose to the plane OF
conscious emotion and thought.
What seemed a long period of
time passed. The instinct for express
sion and for endeavor became domi-
nant; but the perfection of her en-
| vironment Knocked her. The princi-
pie of growth, of change, of activity,
was lacking. If she could have seen
a struggling vine waiting for minis
tering hands to lift it from the
ground, she would have cried aloud
for joy.
At last longing became agony, and
when she could bear it no longer she
stretched forth her helpless hands
and sobbed: What can do? Give
me something to dol"
Instantly the angel of the lovely
but sad face was at her side, sooth-
ing her in softest tones. do not ex-
ert yourself. You are here to rest,
to do nothing whatever"
'But where am II" faltered Har-
riet
The answer came in a tone of sur
prise. you are in your own heaven.
Where else could you be when done
| with earth?"
'My own heaven?" whispered Har-
| riet, all her old beliefs falling about
her in ruin. The angels voice was
still sounding in her ears: Surely
there can be no mistake. But come,
and I will show you the inscription
| over the portal through which we
entered" She followed obediently,
and at signal from her guide look
ed up, only to read an inscription
| that seemed to her to spell out her
own doom-Harriet Wilmarth's
Heaven
cit is so strange here. There is
nothing to do, nothing to dol" Like
the pathetic plants of child the
| words fell brokenly from her lips.
Suddenly she frightened: will my
/ CT H. -