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ALPENA WEEKLY AKGUB.1-- H-i- 1 U' VLIJg^MISCELLANEOUS.OH, TKLL MB. 80UL.Ok. UU m«*. «ml, wtuU U thli l!f« ?A biMth »*o Bill* tOor 4rlt;am» of Iot«, •mbtUoo. «tnfr,Ab, toon »»• o’«f.Moo «NM and fo. Iiko to Us tldoo Of mmo (n*l mo ;And. ttkO • flovor. that wtlboeo. dloo.Kro born lo U-Tlmo Aioo with «Ach hoort•throb, oo owm.Like ••*!«'• fltf ht:To-doy to ouro, to-morrow 10 Hut in our atffht,Uotuown. urMCb, ood dork with flU.Tot omUco or* born ;W* Uto | wo noko llfo low or areal.Litre root or thorn.Lot mom o'rr rwlo tho mind.Tbo h»ort-Kro moroi Twill tho llfo wo leoro boblod.And ihot boforo.Ob, drootn unfothomod oh. fou doy Of omiloa orul ftora ’Oh, brooth la tonomoat of eloy !Boyoad thrao teare, hholl oorrow. oodnooo, wooptac urn O woUnmo. aoul, ihot riot ond proco tETHEL8 CHRISTMAS.Tho winter was at its worst. Ethel had come back to her humble attic, utterly worn out in body, and hopelessly despairing in mind and heart. Her walk through the slushy streets of the great manufacturing town, and across tho bridge, exposed to the full fury of the winter blast, and through tho snow-piled laues to the cottage in the suburbs, where she lived, had ex-hosted what strength she had, especially as nothing in the way of food had passed her lips since morning.Wearily throwing off her hat and cloak, she sauk into a chair, too tired for the moment, even to prepare her cup of tea, which, with some dry bread, was to be her only meal. Tho chair was a common splint one, and the other furniture of the room was as poor. Yet this now friendless orphan had once lived in luxury, been an only child, a petted darling, the heiress of a millionaire.Her summers, ever since she left school, had beeu passed partly at her father's country-seat and partly at Saratoga or Newport. Later, she had been a favorite at the English court, and a belle in London society ; for her father, a banker, having re tired from business, had gone abroad to live.A noted fashionable artist had painted her, in profile, as Diana, with the crescent moon behind ; and the picture, when exhibited at the Royal Academy, had been the talk of the town. Sir Frederick Leighton, exclaiming an art-critic, could not have done better. lu every way, fortuue favored her. But, one day, her father had come homo to his almost princely mansion on Park Lane, so weary-looking that Ethel knew, at once, that something was the matter. No opportunity, however, came to ask, until dinner was over, and the staid butler had retired. Then she leaued forward and said:Papa, dear, what is it?”The answerWd come wearily: Ruin—hopeless ruiu.”At the words, he fell from his chair in a fit of apoplexy, aud died before the doctor, hastily summoned from almost next door, could arrive.What need to dwell on what followed f The harpies of the law swooped dowu on everything, aud, before a month, Ethel was homelesBand penniless. She took her ruined fortunes to a great northern city, tho centre of mighty irou-interests, where certain circumstances, not necessary to mention here, offered, as she thought, an openiug to her.She had at fim hud a hope, but this was now gone. During her prosperity, more than one title had been laid at her feel; but she had rejected all, and selected a younger son instead. He was good-looking, brave, and frank—qualities that quickly won her heart; and, on his part, he was passionately in love with Ethel. He could not be accused of mercenary motives, haviug a competent fortune inherited from his mother. He was in the Guards; and, when they were ordered to Egypt, had to obey the call of duty. Tho separation was the first real sorrow that Ethel had ever experienced. When her father's misfortune came, his family, that had been so eager for tho match, studiously avoided her. But she said to herself :He at last will be true.” Soon after, came the newn of his death, in one of those terrible battles, when Lord Wolseley was striving to relieve Gordon. Thus alone iu a strange land, desated by all her fair-weather friends, her little stock of money exhausted, Ether had no resource but to seek some means of livelihood ; aud she sought it, os we have said, away from London and her false and heartless friends.Alas, her disappointment was as bitter as it was immediate ; the post, she sought for, that of a governess, wan filled , and no other employment presented itself. 8h© tried everything but in vain. She advertised for a position as teacher; she made personal application in stores for a saleswoman’s place ; but eithor there was no vacancies, or recommendations were asked, which, as she had never lived out before, she could notgiye. Finally, when her small store of money was nearly gone, she hired herself out in despair, to work with othors, in one of those great shop that deal in cheap wcaring-apparel—the cheapness, ah me! representing the hsart’t-blood and lives of the workwomen. But•he had no ohoioe. It was that or starvation.Bhe was fortunate, she thought, in finding an attic, in a tumbledown cottage on the outskirts of the city, and so escaping the close feverish atmosphere of a lodging, in some narrow, foul alley, up half a dozen pair of stair*. It was such a relief, such a luxury, to escape from the hot confined garret, in which she and others worked, to the delicious coolness, tho almost Sabbath quiet, of theee summer evonings out of town.Often, she looked at her companions, and wondered how soon she would grow as pale and hnggard as they were. Now and then, one would •top sewing for a moment, and rise to stretch her arms as a relief from her loug-cuntiuued constrained position; but the inexorable voice of the taskmaster would remind the offender that her wages would be docked for every minute she thus wasted. To oscape from all this, from sundown to sunrise at least, and breathe tho pure air of the country, was oh! such a boon.But, when winter came on, and Ethel had to trudge, as tonight, through slush in the city and snowdrifts out of it, she began to think that she had made a mistake. And every day she felt herself growing more weaker, until, to night, sho nearly fainted, when only half-way home.Is there never to be a change I” she said. Will it never end ? How dreadful to be without even hope. Oh ! for ono of the dear old days again.”She leaned her head on her baud, in a despairing, half-dazed ttay, aud began to thiuk of the past.Ah! if ho had only lived,” she said. Harry! Harry I why can’t you come back to me? Ob ! this terrible, terrible, death, that separates those who love.Her attic-wiudow commanded a view, in the distance, of the bridge over the turbid aud wintry stream, by which she had come home, und of the city beyond, with ita lurid luruace-fires. She bad often gazed at it, aud said to herself that only one object iu the whole landscape ever spoke of hope : aud that was the massive square tower of the grand old church, telling of God aud Heaven, und a future life of peace and bliss. Yet even this, with its black aud almost sulleu look to-night, no longer inspired these seuliiueuls ; and she felt almost ready to cry out in despair that there was no righteous Judge, after all ; no pity in the Infinite Miud for sufferers ; but only a world given over to cruelty and wrong; only blank hopeless despair.Suddenly, as she thus mused, the moon vrai seen to rise. Listlessly sho watched it at first. But, as it rose and rose, high above the dark furnaces, triumphant over their red (lame and dusky smoke, she became conscious of a sudden feeling of hope, of an elasticity of spirits not known for long months. Clasping her hands, she cried : God reigns, after all—He is not deaf—I have been wicked and ungrateful, and, raising here eyes above, she prayed : Father in Heaven, teach me to bear all uncomplainingly, and rely on Thy aid in Thine own time.And then, all at ouco, she remember what day it was.It is Cbristmas-eve,” she cried, that brings good-will and pence. How could I have had so little faith, remembering the blessed morrow?’’At the same moment, the chimes in the great tower began to play ; the sound coming aud going, like aerial music, through the frosty atmosphere.It is the angels singing,” she said lo herself, in a hushed whisper, iu the reaction and enthusiasm of the moment. Peace and good-will, pence to the God-willing—oh ! can it bean answer to my prayer!” But then the ovorstrained tension gave way, aud, covering her eyes with both hands, she burst into half-hysterical tears.She wept so long and so uncontrollably, that for awhile, she did not hear a knocking at the door. It was only when the knocking became louder aud more urgent, and was supplemented by the voico of her landlady, that her attentiou was finally attracted. Then, hastily wiping her eyes, she rose and opened tbo door.The landlady stood thero, holding in her hand ono of those envelopes which so many of us learned to associate, as telegrams, with messengers of woe. In happier days. Ethel had never seen one without trembling, and she began to tremble now ; though what more of evil nows could she hear, she asked herself.Don’t, don’t,” cried the landlady. It can’t be anything wrong, for such a nice gentleman is waiting downstairs for the answer ; and ho wouldn't look so happy if the news were bad.”Ethel tore open, with trembling fingers, the envelope; and this is what she read :I am well. I was captured, and, though sorely wounded, not killed. After many mouths, I succeeded in making mv escape. I have been seeking you for months. Oh, why did you hide yourself from mo? I am coming out at once U see you.”Henry Despencer.Aliye ? The dead come back ? From the words of the telegram, not only alive, but not far off. Ob, could there be—could it be—oo mistake ? Waa it not all some deluding dream ? The news was too good to )» true.The telegram fell to the floor. Bhe pushed back her hair, and looked at her landlady in such a wild half-insane way.Don’t, don't, the latter cried again, and sprang to support Ethel, who now tottered and fell back. You must not faint. Oh, help! help! she is dying,” cried tho woman.There was a rush of steps up the narrow rickety stairs, aud, the next instant, tho half-unconscious Ethel was lying in her lover’s arms.Is it—is it really you, dear!” she murmured, after awhile, reviving under his passionate appeal quite as much as with the water with which tho landlady was bathing her face. Oh, it can’t be true f It is too much happiniM.”That I should find you in such a place as this, was his answer, ni the landlady, realizing something of the truth,discreetly retired, and literally starving. Great God, is there justiceHush,” whispered Ethel. Don’t —don't speak that way : it hurls me. I thought so once. But I haye been rebuked. Ah, it is all over now. God is so good! What a happy, happy Christmas this will be!”Later on, after Ethel bad made some tea, at her lover’s entreaty, which beverage he insisted on sharing with her, he told her how he hail been captured, and detained a prisoner, and bow fiually he had escaped and how he had not heard of her father’s death until arriving iu London.My companions.” he said, saw me fall, by a thrust from a spear; but being overpowered and forced to retreat, they were compelled to leave my dead body, as they thought, behind. You see, we had formed into a square, as wc always did when attacked; but the rush of the Arabs was so terrible, and their number so overwheming, that they soon broke through it. You can have no conception, dear, how the savages (ought. Life seemed to be of no value to them. They poured down on our fixed bayonets, with their wild cries, firing their guns and hurling tbfir spears; and, though our repeat-ing-rifles mowed them down like grain before the scythe, others a9 fauatical rushed in to fill their places, until the dead were piled in heaps boforo us. At last, by sheer force of number and the reckless disregard of life, they broke into our square; and,after thnt, the fight became a hand-to-hand encounter, every man for himself—no order, no discipline, possible. I found myself at bay, with four Arabs availing me. The foremost seemed to be a chief: for ho was shouting to the others all the while. I had picked up some Arabic in the campaign, and could understand most of what he said. ‘Cut down tbo infidelf' he cried. 'Houria wait for you in Paradise, if you fall. My comrades saw my strait, but could not help me. Each man had more than enough to defend himself; and, when I finally fell before a spear-thrust, they naturally supposed I was dead : aud so reported, when their little remnant eventually fought its way to a sand-hill, where the pursuit was stopped.”All this while, Ethel sat with clasped hands, regarding him earnestly, the color coming and going in her face, at bis description.But I wa* not dead,” he said. Though sorely wounded, I was able to speak when the enemy, as waa their custom, came to village the slain. My little stock of Arabic stood me in good'stcad now. Tho chief, who had urged his followers in the beat of the fight lo slay me, waa now more mercifully inclined, and ordered that my life should bo spared. 'Ho is tho prisoner of my spear/ lie said. *1 may make a good Moslem of him yet.’ In consequence of this, I was carried into the desert, and there nursed until I was quite recovered. Then my real iroublo began. I was told that I must'renounce Christianity, or be impaled. My answer was that I did not fear to die, but would never bo a renegade.” •Oh, you brave soul,” cried Ethel, her eyes flashing with pride in her hero; and, stooping, she kissed hishand.At last, they carried mo before the Mahdi,” continued the speaker; but I made the same answer. The very next day was fixed for my execution. But, fortunately, before this, I had been able to open a negotiation with one of my captor’s servants—an Egyptian from the Nile—to assist me in escapiug : and. that very night, he came to me aud said that the preparation was complete. To make a long story short, dear, wo got off, and, though pursued, managed to hide ourselves in the desert, and fiually to reach the Nile, after which to descend to Cairo was comparatively easy.I was eager to see you. I had tolegraphed from Cairo, to contradict the report of my loss. But oh ! darling, what was my despair, on reaching England, to hear of your father’s death, and that you had disappeared, soon after, leaving no trace behind. In yain, for weeks, I employed detectives, and took every other means of traciug you, It was only yesterday that I got upon a clue. I hurried here at once ; went to the place where you worked ; talked with your dreadful task master—great heaven! U think that anch a man as that should be allowed to live—and assured that I bad found you at Rut, wrote that oote, as if a telegram. fearing that, otherwise, my unaououncedpresence might overcome you. Per- i haps, after, nil, it was a mistake; it i nearly k illed you.” tBut with joy, dear, she murmur- i ed, nestling to him. Ah, if I bad i not been prepared for the good news, I iu that way or some other, the shock, ( 1 fear, would have been too much for lt;me. I had known so littlo of hope, that the revulsion, if too quick, would —Would—”Thank God, that is all over,” said her lover, stopping her with a kiss ; and don’t let us even think of it. Dear, you will he mine immediately, yes, without any foolish delay ? Tomorrow—”Not to-morrow.” sho answered, blushing and drawing slightly away, but very soon.To-morrow is Christmas: and we must devote that to God, who ha** been so good, so mercifully good.” Happy tears rose to her eyes, ami , choked her words, ns she spoke.Nevertheless, ninny days did not pass belore there was a wedding. At the request of Ethel, it took place at the old church—and by special license, of course, thero beiug no time for banns.Again the chimes rang out a silvery peal, hut this lime it was a merry wcdding-nmrch.You must forgive my sisters,” said her husband, as they drove away from tho church ; they—well, you know, they wanted me to marry an heiress. But love is better, dear,” us be fondly kissed her.I forgive them freely, answered Ethel, a a she returned his kibs, shyly,especially since you n^k it. But Iam glad you told them not to come lo the weddiug, as they offered; I oould hardly have stood that. It will take some lime to make me forget it all.”I don’t wonder,” was his reply. And, remember, I don’t defend them. But, darling, they have nothing to do with our real happiness. They will make fuss enough with you now. But it is to ourselves wc must look.And they did look to each other, and to each other alone, nsnll married couples should. Aud Ethel has led,iu consequence, such a rounded and perfect existence, thnt to this day she blesses God, as she looks buck, ou the past, for thnt Happy Christmas.
Newspaper Details
Alpena Weekly Argus
Alpena, Michigan, US
Wed, Dec 24, 1890
Page 4
Full Page
Clipped by
Anonymous
USA 28 Oct 2022
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