Year: 1874

A WIPES MISSION. -

 We were in our mountain home, my husband and I, when one day he said to me, This will never do; there's going to be a rousing storm, that's plain. And there isn't a hundred weight of hay left in the settlement-shou1d have gone last week if Harris hadn't broken his leg; waited for the thaw to freeze over aittle, too. We'll, we won't put it off an hour now. We must har- ness up and go across the hills to Marshall's and get some, or the storm will be3Hpon us, and the creatures will all have starved before it lifts and the road is passable again. 1t may be a regular three-decker." E -. 'a5sa

 So MT. Dean and John Bishop put their horses into our sled, and Jo, my husband, and they crossed the ford there was only one single stringer of the bridge laid then-and started on the main road for Marshall's, and Jo said they d be back by night fall, and left, one day, Bose to take care of the baby and me. But Bose knew it was special occasion, and broke, loose and went frol- icking after them.gs... g., 1. s....

 We'll, l. worked about all the fore noon, and put the baby to sleep, and laid together nice. little dish ready for baking for Jos supper. r .oaI piled on the logs that Jo had brought in, and kept roaring fire going, and I pottefed round for the sake of being busy, and went into the lean-to and gave Sorrel the last of the fodder, and when came back the baby cried with collie an hour, and by the time that laid him on the bed the sud- den-coming dark had shut down like 8 dish-coyer, the wind was bowling through the hills, and it was storming furiously. I sat down at last in dull tremble, listening for the sound of bells or voices; but nothing was to be heard but the keening of the wind, like wailing cry, round the corner of the hut, like the roaring of furnace up the mountain. It was pitch-dark; no moon nor star. The sleet beat against the window in blast after blast; once it pushed it in, and almost smothered me as it stopped my breath, and made me feel like a dead leaf to be blown away, while I put the sash back. Occasion ally a sort of supernatural glimmer showed me the tempest whirling up

 

 but after set lamp in the window the flakes swept by the lane of light like hurrying sparks of fire, and could see that it was drifting heavily in drifts that must be already deep. It was eight 0 clock-and still no Jo.

 q will go to bed," I said. "Of course he isn't coming tonight {; they would never let the team leave Mar shalPs when they saw such storm blowing ups" But didn't go to bed, for, l. knew better. I knew Jo would not leave the baby and me alone in this weather-so much for having such 8 sinipfeton for wifel knew they had left Marshall's i; was fearful that to save time they had forsaken the main road for the shorter cut across country, and had either been wedged between drifts or had lost the way in the dark and the snow, and my heart beat so it hurt me, and I began to cry forlornly. Another long, long, weary hour, start ing up and sitting down, praying and wringingi my hands, and walking to and fro, and straining my eyes to see through the thick air-and it was ten. Sometimes thought I heard cries, but it was only a sharp whistle of the storm i; sometimes I thought saw 8 shadow struggling up, but it was only the denser shadow following some fierce gust. And thought what if I had Leard cries what if Jo and his con- paniens were calling out now for help 1! what if, in the darkness, the team had gone off the road at some one of all the countless bridges between us and Mar shaH's and they had plunged down upon the broken ice or into the brawling tor rent! whatif they had sunk overpowered upon the way and were this moment falling into mortal sleep, wrapped in the snows HJo while I was warm and housed, and with ny baby And all at once I saw had my punishment, and burst out crying again, crying out lend, to think 1t should have come to me through Jo, and not my own self through my dear, good, patient Jo ! And could see his face, cold and white, and his eyes fixed and staring at me my Jos "And what should I do without him? p cried. .sHow could the baby and I live without him? Oh, if we could only have all gene togetherP' And l ran and hid my face in a corner of the baby's blanket.

 Il suppose it was half an hour that I sat so; when suddenly I thought I heard scratching. I did hear a scratching and humping at the door, and it drove all the blood to my heart. My first idea, yes, actually, my first idea was of wolves, but in the next breath I thought of Jo staggering up and falling there, too tired to speak. And then. there came a yelp and 8 bark that knew-Bose {! Then Jo must be close behind !! And I flung the baby on the bed, and sprang to the door and threw it open, and the dog bounded in and bounded upon me, covering me ali over with the powdery snow as I peered out beyond him. Icalled, I shouted nothing replied. I went outside the door, and found it had stopped snow. ing ; it was too cold to snow: but the wind still blew hurricane, and the 1 night was black. And despair seized But the dog ran into the hut, and rar

 out again, plunging into the snow, and

 barking, and returning to me and aeatehing my gown and trying to draw nae on, and running off again an6 tboundfng back "Oh, it's just as

 knew it was l" I screamed. They're l 1Oat in tha cnow and tho doe, hoe oono.