Year: 1865

from her door in spite of all that she could do.
"And, indeed, she continued, @There were
times when / was so afraid that darling Willie
would suffer for food, that l went supperless
to bed yet happy in the thought that my child
was provided for. 1t was only last night, dear,
that he ever cried for his accustomed bowl of
bread and milk. went out to carry some
work home, hoping to receive the money due
me, which was but three dollars; but it was
not convenient for my employer to pay me till
to-day, SO l came back, and begging little
cake for Willie, / took him in my arms and
sung him to Sleep"


She then told him of her acquaintance with
Lyman; that he had urged her to become his
wife, till, maddened by her refusal, he had that
night left her with threats which she was too
frightened to comprehend.


The husbands story, also, was soon told.


He, with dozen or more of Che passen-
gers and crew of the ill-fated sHudson" had
saved themselves in life boat, which was
seen and hailed the next day by a merchant
man bound for California. Allured by the
dazzling prospect of speedily acquiring the
fortune which in other parts of the world
might have been the work of many years, he
soon determined to remain there; and going
into the interior, he had realized more than he
had ever dared to hope for. In the meantime
he had written again and again to Clara, and
others, but receiving no reply, he at length
concluded that his letters never reached their
destination, as indeed they did not. Unable
to bear further suspense, and fearing the worst,
he started for New York city, and arrived
there just two months before, but on hasten
ing to the house of his wife he found to his great
surprise that sheha gone, none knew with
er. Business had called him to W., and while
there, partly to crafty an old friend who was
policeman, and who wished to leave the city
for few days, and partly for change from
the weary monotony of his life, he had con-
sented to take his friends place, and it thus
happened that he noticed Lyman and marked
his strange demeanor.


"Little did dream that it was my long
lost wife for whom l felt so much sympathy,
and such a strong desire to interfere" said
Herman as Re tenderly brushed back the curls





have grown Clara. The pasthas been a night
time of sorrow to us both, truly, but if the ro-
ses do not bloom again on your white cheeks,
it shall be through no fault Of mine now that
have found you once more. And here, of
all places" He spoke cheerfully, but his voice
quivered, and his eyes were dim as they fell
upon the scanty furniture, and the carpetIess
floor OF her little room. a


"But where is our boy, Clara? In the care
of your kind landlady?"


"Yes, dear will go and get him."


But as she opened the door, she saw Mrs.
O'Neil coming up stairs with the little fellow
in her arms, who was wide awake and calling
out playfully:


"Willie's tummin' mama"


Clara met them at the top Of the stairs, and
taking her child from the kind hearted woman
who had cared for him SO long, she thanked
her and returning to her roonl-oh how diff
ferent it looked, since he came, it was so cold
and cherries before-she laid the wondering
boy in her husbands arms, saying as she
did so,-"It is your father, Willie, your own,
dear papa"


The child looked at him steadily, for a mo-
ment, and then, as if satisfied with his seruti-
ny, he wound his arms around his neck and
pressing his lips to to the bronzed face seen
for the first time that night, he said very soft
ly:


"Dear, darling papa"


There was no response in words, but the
fathers eyes now overfowed with tears as he
strained the little prattler to his heart.


"Have you had any dinner, anything to eat
to-day, ClaraP" asked her husband as soon as
he could speak. "How thoughtless have
been not to ask you before"


"Never mind, dear. Willie and 1 had a
luncheon at noon, and tonight bought
loaf Of bread and some cakes for our supper
But will go out and get some tea now that
have a guest, the first one for long while"


"Nay, Clara; cannot let you go out again
tonight. Tell me the name and number of
your street and house, and will execute your
commissions to the best of my ability" and
throwing a cloak over his shoulders, he left
the room with lighter steps than he had enter
ed it.


With prayer in her heart, and smile on
her lips, Clara went to work to prepare for
supper; and very soon there was nice fire in
the stove, and the teakettle singing as it had
not sung before for many long day and
night; and then the happy wife looked around
to sec if the room which served alike for
kitchen and parlor was in company array
All, yesl it was "always as neat as two little
pins" Mrs. O'Neil frequently averred. But
she would just change her dress, as the one
she had on was too sombre in color for such an
occasion so she went into the little sleeping
room from whence she soon emerged neatly
attired in a blue and white delaine, while her
rich auburn hair was gathered back and con-
fined by ribbons that matched her dress. 1t
as.his favorite color-you might have known
that by the sudden light in his eyes as they
fell on her when he returned.
"Here, Willie, my man." he said, "won't we
have famous supper to-night?" depositing
basket, filed to its utmost capacity, on the ta-
ble. =


But the little fellow, wearied with play, and
unaccustomed to such late hours, was nodding
in his chair, so taking him up, Herman sat
down with the child in his arms, where he
soon fell asleep with both little hands tightly
clasped around his fathers, as if fearful that he
might lose him again. When supper was
over, and the tea-things washed aud put away,
Clara sat dom by her husband to hear his
plans for the future. He was to leave her the
next day for large and thriving town near
New York city, where he had determined to
settle on his return to the States if all was
well.


@This is Tuesday" he said in conclusion;
"nevt wool, sloIl ro+,,,,, for Won and Willie