The Olneyville times. (Olneyville [Providence, R.I.]) 1887-1917, 1915-07-16

II was a handsome show piece Of ex.
travagance. nothing more. yet Hackett
cherished il as the apple of his eye.
He went past II at least once a day.
He had columns describing il IN the
newspapers. He ruled, the money
bags nabob OF the town, and foolishly
believed that he was the envied OF all
men.
He was sadly disappointed when, at
the end OF a year. Felice came home
from boarding school and settled down
into the cheerless life he had marked
out for her. She had no heart in the
big sprawling mansion, the mausoleum
cast a gruesome spell over her spirits.
The stern decision OF her irrational
father that she should not even notice
the Barrys, chilled her as would win
try blast a delicate. lovely flower.
Twice she met Arnold Barry. Her
father learned OF it, He exacted a
promise from her that she would dis
continue all communication with the
Barfys, and her gentle heart nearly
broke.
1T will stand forever!" vaunted
Hackett one day to fellow townsman,
the sweep of his hand proudly taking
in the grand mausoleum.
Dunno, Hackett." dissented the
practical neighbor. They tell me it's
got a floating foundation, as they call
it. Used to be quicksand where the
river sweeps around just below it,"
"Nonsense!" declared Hackett, rasp-
ingly. Its built for the ages!"
The weeks went by. Poor mourning
Felice grew paler and more quiet. Her
father wandered uneasily about the
lonely mansion. Then came a three
days deluge. Just at dusk, as the
weather cleared, he crossed the turbid
swollen stream to view the monument
that had cost him a fortune.
"Solid as rock-they won't soon for
get the name of Hackett!" he tried to
console himself by saying.
Then he started back, Mortified. He
saw the cliff side crumble. He saw
the great mausoleum swerve, its un-
dermined foundation give way, and II
seemed TO disintegrate and slide into
the roaring stream below before his
appalled, vision.
He had built on the sand-mausoleum
and happiness. He was chilled, fright.
ened He turned his back upon his
wasted labor with hollow groan.
Was heaven reproaching him; was
fate mocking? How hollow the gains
of all his pride and scheming! He halt
ed, trembling, as the sound OF JOY
Gus hymn of praise was borne to his
hearing on the evenings breeze.
He saw the childrens home all
ablaze with the glory Of the setting
sun, he heard care-free juvenile voices
chanting gratitude and content. All!
how completely had the Barrys car
ried out their great life dream TO make
others happy!
He was shivering like a leaf as he
reached home. There the sad, re-
signed face Of his lonely daughter
chided him anew. He was overcome
with remorse, all grew dark
1t was a month later when, looking
older by twenty years, he tottered
about the garden, leaning on Felice's
arm for support. She was the kind.
thoughtful daughter in every way, but
her wearied eyes told of hopelessness
of her life. Someone passed by.
"Who was that?" inquired her
father.
Arnold Barry, father" replied Fe-
lice, meekly.
Call him In. Felice, II have
changed my mind. II you are mourn
ing over my past unreasonable stern
ness, forget, forgive"
"Oh! father"
"And tell him-tell him / will be
glad to give half my fortune to enlarge
the children's home"
The sun burst forth brilliantly from
behind a passing cloud as he spoke
the harbinger of courage and hope for
an erring soul that saw the true light
at last.