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Hj, she \v as smiles (lie
H|W and 'l* ’li <•; 1 1 < ■ lip.
mo until tomorrow
Hiorniiig,” sighed Ellul, lifting a
mail' of beseeching i‘,u to his
mice.
I “So bo it," ho roj>liol, in a sad
Lihi. “lint, El hoi, I sooiii to
Know what your auswcr will ho.
low is it that other girls give up
lonic, parents, friomls, for their
love's sake; while you ding to
everything and every ono rallior
than to the man you have pro
fesseiT To love above all the
world.” m
i “1 cannot tell.” Ethel s voice
quivered as she spoke, and a lew
hot tears fell from her downca-1
eyes. “I am sure I* do care
for you well emnigli To go to the
ends of the oifil h with \mi ; I do
—ldo. Him you know that my
father and' mother caunot span 1
me.”
“Umph!" returned Mr. .May.
looking away from blind and
her pleading face. No one ad
mired tilial devotion more than
he did; but he thought it might
be carried, as in this ease, tin
reasonably far, “Other parents
willingly give up their daughters;
why can not yours do likewise.
I have a good position to oiler
you, Ethel."
* “1 know it.” sighed Ethel.
“But, Henry, they do not with
hold their consent without a jit-i
cause."
“Ethel," fillin' a call al this
mome it, in a feeble, treble voice'
from the' house; and Ethel hasli
. ly picked up the blue trimmed
i hut that had fallen at her feet,
'r “I must go, Henry ;my moth
| er needs me. Wont you come
i up to the house t"
~ “Not this evening, Ethel," he
t replied, bending down until his
*1 dark mustache touched the rosy
fwcheek. “But 1 will be here to
morrow to hear my fate. What
► time shall 1 come
to “Any time. I only want to
spiight to think it out."
hve “There I—to think it out. 1
khronw the decision lay w ith your
■fe£f alone, Ethel. A good night
Vlpvou. uiv best and sweetest;
Bind may your thoughts and
Jpreams be propitious to me !”
f “Good night. Harry." she
and he might have
he*.*d/*tH'meU a iring love iu her
goi
-18,
I
i ILr
luty lav in striving to lighten it. 1
aii oiie and two years
* r | 'jJißkL* ‘l' 'tv -Mav* had
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healthy people. growing
elderly, they suddenly
y.BPed. In-Jug strength ami spir
j and now they were bowed,
: 'orn and hroken ; looking like a
very old mail' and wo nan lor
whom I lie grave was wailing.—
How fould Ellie! leave them?
Mrs. Strong sal in the host
kitchen, knitting, as Ethel en
tered. The silting rooms lad
been in nidi neglected since I heir
r'kk'len fortunes; to sit here saved
rNlie had a meek, feeble
face, and her vo*oe was
re have yon been, eliild ? ’
r at I In* gate* beyond the
other.” answered Ethel,
; for this dutiful girl
1 the sunshine upon the
nil manner and cheery
eon I<l throw,
i Harry May ?"
‘•Yes, mother.”
Mrs. Strong sighed. She re
gurded I lie young man with a
sort of resentliienl. because he
wanted to carry oil’ Ethel. IVr
Imps misfortune makes people
sellish.
■■lie is at last going to < anada,
mol her. it is impossible that he
ean put il elf longer.”
"lie can go.” saiil Mrs. Strong.
• 4 .\nd so much the better for you,
Ethel. lam sure lie distracts
your mind like anything.”
"Oh, mother! Why do you
object to him ?”
“We don't object to him in any
way; you must not think that ;
neither I nor your father. lie is
steady, persevering, and his posi
lion will In* very good in time.
Hut, Ethel, we cannot spare you.”
"No ?” was the faint answer.
"It might be better for you to
give him up at once. I suppose
he lias asked yon to go with him
to this Canada ?”
"lie wants to take you ? Hr
ges it strongly. I suppose?”
"He wauls me to be married at
once, within a month, and Intake
me out. Yes, mother, lie urges il
s| rough."
" A ml y ou w ill go ?”
••Not unless you and father
can spare me."
"Hut how can we spare you?”
"Biddy is a steady, willing girl,
and is getting to be a good ser
vant. And you have always
Roger, you know . And Harriot
lives only a mile away, and would
often eolne over to you."
"1 seo what il is you mean to
leave us.” cried the poor mother,
tractiously. "W ell, you are of
age, Ethel- two and twenty this
y ear and we can't stop you."
“Motlter, you need not speak
ii tlr.it way." said Ethel, with a
rising soli. only said 1 would
go if you and my father could
spare me."
"No one can ever lill your place
lon*. Ethel. Biddy----Harriet—
w hat are they ? .lust a heedless
servant; just a heedless niece,
who lias her husband and her ba
by to tyke up her time and
thou Hits. And. child, there's
another tiling; we have not a
spare shilling to purchase you an
outtit.”
Ethel put her arms on the ta
ble and. boat her head on them,
not earing that her distress should
be seen. Mrs. Strong was sob
bing deeply.
"(Hi. Ethel, my child, don't go
from us!” lie pleaded. Your
father's health and strength are
failing ; Roger has his ow n pur
suits in an evening and is out on
the farm hv day. What comfort
would he he to me ?—what good ?
Don't add to our dreadful burdens
by abandoning us now !"
Mrs. Strong sat with her hands
clasped despairingly in her lap.
Ethel dropped dow nmi the stool
at her mother's feet and began
to weep bitterly.
Tll K FIE L 1) AND FI R ESIDE.
“Don't cry, Ethel,” said Mrs.
Strong, laying her hand on Eth
el's nut-brown hair. -The night
is always darkest before the
dawn. You have been a faithful
daughter, and Hod will reward
voij mav not be in this
A 7‘/ ,H - l,s !Vilf be in the next.”
not be
wa- a bitter to her:
*P*Wed her only brother. Hut
Bed Henry May also, with
and passionate love,
amt her tender, womanly heart
dung to him as the drowning
cling to some trail plank that
hears them to life and safety.
“Poor Ethel ?“ sighed her worn
old father, when the evening's
conversation and doubts were
repeated to him. "My child's
happiness is dearer to me than
all the money in the world; but
the Mays are proud people, and
Ethel cannot go among them like
| a beggar."
“A beggar.
••Yes, wife, what else would it
be ? t could not even buy her
j her w edding dress. Ethel, child,
! for how long a time does Harry
expect to go out ?*’
“He does not say, father. It is
of course uncertain.”
"Not very uncertain, I fancy,"
spoke Air. Strong, his feeble voice
all in a quiver, as it generally
was wow. "An enterprise such
as that cannot be accomplished
under eight or ten years, and I
loocludelie will have to see its
completion."
Ethel sighed. That his entire
stay might be as long as that she
knew; but lie would come home
between whiles.
It was one of the most painful
evenings Ethel had ever passed
perhaps more than any she
would ever pass. Her fat her and
mot her were weeping and wailing
at the possibility of losing her,
and, as Mr. Strong put it, how
riuilil Tire druTisc go on without.
Ethel now? It chanced that at
this lime her brother was away;
he had gone to spend a few days
with some friends at a distance.
Had lie been at home he might
have taken up his sister's cause,
and results might have been 'dif
ferent; she often thought of this
in after years, lie was one year
older than herself, and he loved
her very dearly. Air. and JVlrs.
St rong had married late
he was turned sixty now she
fast approaching it.
So Ethel's fate was sealed.—
Her father finally declared that
she should be left to her ow n free
decision to go or stay. But how
could she decide against them?
She believed that her duty lay in
remaining in the old farm home
stead and she was too good a
daughter to rebel against it. All
night long, lying on the snowy
bed in her own pretty room, she
did battle with her inclinations,
and prayed to bear the travail
and the sorrow.
She did not forget her appoint
ment for 7 o'clock, and went out
as the clock struck. Henry Alay
was already at the lawn gate.—
Years after lie remembered—he
ever would remember—the pie
ture she made, as she came slow
ly down the path, the morning
sunlight kissing her nut-brown
hair, the faint (lush on her fresh
young cheeks, while the birds
wore singing in the trees and the
dew glisoned on the grass.
Extending his hand, he took
hers within it in silence, and
looked at her steadfastly and
searehinglv.
“Well, Ethel?"
She burst into tears. She could
not speak.
-Is it to be yes, or no ?'*
"Oh Henry, Henry !” she soli
j bed ; and too surely he then knew
what the answer was to be. He
dropped her hand.
"Do not blame me harshly,”
she sobbed, lifting her now pale
' face pleadingly to his. “It is my
duty to stay at home. I cannot
go against that."
llis lips tightened visibly. So
you prefer duty to love. Ethel!"
“I—t think when the two clash
it is not duty that should give
way. Do you?"
"Generally speaking—no. But,
Ethel. Ido not see this matter
quite as you see it. When you
became engaged to me your fath
er and mother fully understood
that I should probably want to
take you away, and they made no
demur to it."
"But things have changed.—
They require me now."
“No. they ilo not. If it is for
home matters you mean, let
them take someone in your place.
Anil they have your brother.—
And Harriet Marshall would be
; unto them almost as a daughter."
Painfully agitated, she was en-'
twining her hands ouo within the
other.
*•1 do think. Ethel, that you
are in this instance taking an ex
aggerated view of your duty. Do
you owe nothing to me? Is it
fair to have kept me waiting all
these years, and to fail me now ?"
"I—l cannot help myself." she
sobbed.
••That is. you do not love me j
sufficiently well to make "this ef
fort for me."
_ -Do not doubt my love," she
returned, anguish bringing forth
the avowal. "I shall love and
esteem you above all others while
mv life last."
"But—you decide against me?
You send me forth alone."
"Yes. But oh. Jlenry, don't
you see that I have no alterna
tive? Believe me that 1 have
none. None/’
lie extended his hands to take
both hers. His face was a little
agitated, but stern. That she
was using him harshly he fully j
believed. We all see from our
own point of view and not from
another's.
‘•Good-by, then. And may
God keep you, Ethel, until we |
meet again!"
He kissed the sweet face that
was so full of pain. It would be
marked by many lines of sorrow
before that time should come.
in that way they parted. Notli
i iug was said on either side as to
whether the engagement be
tween them should continue or
not. Ethel almost thought that
his last, words, "until we meet,
j again' implied that it did. And no
1 arrangement was made with re
: gard to correspondence. As she
; went back to the house that
bright June morning, her heart
felt well nigh breaking with its
pain.
Air. Alay departed for Canada,
tie became absorbed in the cares
of his new undertaking; and as the
time went on, Et hel received a
letter from him occasionally,
written in a cordial, friendly spir
it . but containing no lovei like ex
pressions. He told her all about
bis new home and his life there,
and described the country graph-
I ieally, anil inquired after the old
friends he had left behind. Ethel
wrote back to him in just the
same friendly spirit ; but she
knew not whether he still co i
sidered she belonged to him.
Troubles closed in around her
as the years went on. Sickness
came. Roger, the hope and
pride of the family, was laid to
rest beside the dead anil gone
Strongs in the shady and
ful churchyard, llis mother fol
lowed him in a few months; and
Ethel alone remained to comfort
the poor old father, whose la ier
life had been so full of work, so
hai'd and cheerless.
If Ethel’s heart ached, no one
knew it. If her woman's tender
ness craved a husband’s love, or
the sweet caresses that might
have kept, her young anil buoy
ant, no one suspected it. There
were moments of depression when
she felt inclined to say that God
had dealt hardly with her in many
ways, yet her faith in him never
wavered. Neither did her feet
ever falter, as she administered
j to the wants of the frail old fath
j er, who lived in the light of her
j smile.
Four years had gone by. One
balmy evening Ethel sat in the
shady arbor, sewing diligently,
ller father dozed in an arm chair
at an open window within view
while a thrush, swinging on a
bough above Ethel's brown head,
burst out into a gush of song that
tilled the still air with lnelodv.
“Ethel!"
Ethel looked up. Her old lov
er, bronzed and bearded, stood
before her. She had heard foot
steps, certainly, but supposed it
to be only one of the men. Down
fell her work as she rose up, full
of bewildered agitation
••Are you <|uite well F’ he ask
ed.
She put her hand into his, an
swering she knew not what.—
Mr. May sat dowubeside her.
He told her how well he was
prospering; that Canada would
have to be his home vet for years,
perhaps for life. He inquired
into all her home changes and
trials; the substance of them he
knew, but not the details.
Then for a little while they sat
in silence. And he, looking into
the face that had lost its early
bloom and brightness only to
gain a more spiritual beauty,
could yet see little to give him
hope in the steady, thoughtful
eyes.
••Von have changed much Eth
el."
“All, I suppose so. Time and
sorrow change us all." she added !
sadly.
“Will you be my wife now.
Ethel ?"
She only replied by a lit of
trembling Oh, if she might be?
But there was no hope.
He had come home all that
way to ask rlie question, lie said,
not choosing to trust to a letter;
speech was more eloquent than
written words, more persuasive.
He had waited for her all these
years; but llis patience was ex
hausted now.
“And you surely will not say
nay to me again?" be urged.
“You surely cannot lie so cruel,!
Ethel."
She shook her head pitiably,
and pointed toiler sleeping fath
er. "I am all that is left to him,
Henry. While ho lives 1 must
be at hand to comfort him."
.“He may live for years. He is
only sixty-live, or so.
“True. lie may live for years.
His health is good now/*
“Would he come out with us,
do you think ?“
“It would be impossible. To
take him from the home of his
lifetime would kill him. He will
never leave it; lie must live and
die in it."
“Have you learned to care for
any other man ?” Air. Alay asked
in a modified tone.
“I shall never care for any one
but. you. I shall never marry.—
You are denied tome, but no one
else will ever win regard from me
or call me wife."
“Do y®s understand, Ethel,that
this is the last time that I shall be
aide to put the question to you ?"
“Yes, 1 suppose it is. Of course
it is. It is very good of you to
come again."
lie spoke a little further then.
Canada was the country of his a
doption ; at least it would be for
years to come; lie had his house
and home in it, but he must have
a wife. And Ethel gathered more
by her own than by his
spoken words, that if she still de
clined to be that wife, he would
seek another.
Air. Strong opened his eyes and
put on his spectacles to see what
tall, line man that was in the ar
bor talking to his daughter. May
went in to say a few words of
greeting, and then returned to
Ethel.
"It is to be then. Ethel ? There
is no hope."
“It must be. Heaven help me."
“Fare you well, my lies! and
dearest. Fare you well forever.”
A convulsive throb broke from
her aching heart. And he press
ed his last, kiss upon her lips.
Thus they part ed. Never, in all
probability, to meet again on this
side of the Eternal City. It was
one of the world's sacrifices.
Never again—as Ethel thought,
and as he thought. But, curious
to say, Air. Strong himself came
to the rescue.
Whether lie had heard aught
of what passed between them in
the arbor, or whether his better
nature rose up within him, Ethel
never knew. She heard her name
spoken hastily.
“Yes, father!”
-Is Mr. Alay going ?”
"lie is gone, father. He is now
passing out at the gate."
“(/all him back. Say t would
speak a word to him/'
And the departing steps were
soon returning.
A curious look of hope, like a
ray of light, shone on Henry
Alay's face. Did instinct give rise
to it ? Air. Strong, looking at him
attentively,stretched out his hand
to take that of the engineer.
"Will you tell me what you
have been telling Ethel ?"
And the tale was told. All his
hopes,all la's pleading,and Ethel’s
grievous answer.
"Says it would kill me to go to
Canada.does she?—thinks I could
not die away from my own home?
Well, I don't know. I have al
ways had a wish to see Canada; a
cousin of mine went out therein
early life and made his fortune.
1 could not be separated from her
you know, Harry Alay; but 1 do
not see why I should not live as
long out there as here."
The tears were in the old man's
eyes, though he spoke in a quaint
joking tone. Ethel stood with
clasped hands and parted lips,
hardly daring to believe what she
heard. Her lover caught her to
him with a sob of emotion, and
pressed the aged hands with gra
titude so fervent that Air. Strong
cried out for quarter.
"You may get your wedding
dress made, child, and the sooner
we start after that, the better."
“Oh, father, father!" —with a
burst of joyous tears —"how shall
we ever thank you ?"
••By taking loving care of him,"
whispered Henry Alay.
So, after all, this was not to he
one of the world’s sacrifices. But,
alas ! many such take place daily.
Agricola’s Bakery
rplIE public are respectfully inforui
eU that l have re-openeil my Bake
rv in Marietta, anil will furnish the ve
ry lietof
BREAD. CAKES. Ac.
Fur sale, at the .storeof Mrs. Shoemhull,
also Cakes etc., for sale at R. Hirsh’s
and to parties at their resiliences, and
all at moderate prices for cash. Having
given entire satisfaction in the past, I
feel sure that no one will be disappoin
ted in giving me their custom.
Parties supplied at short notice. Gra
ham and Rye Bread made to order, and
Yeast kept for sale,
oct 30-1 v R. .1. T. AGRICOLA.
THE FIELD 11 FIRESIDE.
BOOK AND JOB
Printing E^lislnlt!
POWDKR SPRING STREET
MARIETTA, GEO.,
BEING FI LLY PREPARED
WITH
Mill & Dirit(HEl) PRES®,
Also, with the latest styles of
(T p]ic, IWkrs,
ORNAMENTS, &C,
Is prepared to execute
EVERY DESCRIPTION
OF
Book & Job Printing,
IN A NEAT MANNEI; :
Snell as
Bills of Fare,
Programmes, Drug Tickets,
Picnic and Ball Tickets,
Auction Bills,
Hand Bills,
i . 7
Circulars,
Deeds,
Invoices,
GIVE | Bill Heads,
US A | Headings,
TRIAL | Patent Tags,
Bills Lading,
Druggist’s Labels
Promissory Notes,
Cards, Bank Checks,
Catalogues,
Envelopes,
Mortgages,
Contracts,
AND
EVERY VARIETY OF BLANKS!
Posters,
Street Bills,
Programmes,
Dodgers for Shows, &<\
DONE fX
A SUPERIOR STYLE.
AND
At the very Lowest Rates.
Orders by Mail promptly at
tended to, and estimates for
warded, on application to
J.G. CAMPBELL & CO
LOOK HIIKK!
LAND BUYERS.
lAM ottering for sale, a neat little
Farm, containing 7l> acres of good
red hind, newly settled, witli a good
trained dwelling, kitchen, stables,cribs,
and all necessary out-houses, all built in
the last three years; a young orchard of
InO choice frm. trees. This land pro
duces i verything raised in this country.
There will he no repairing needed for
several years: twenty-live acres of open
land, nearly half fresh land, none worn
out. For further particulars, apply to
tiic undersigned on the place, six miles
west of Marietta, on the Sandtown road,
nov 1 :t-4 1 ASA DARBY.
s*r wr are prepared, with
new type, new presses, and good
workmen, to do all kinds of Job
Work, at short notice, and at pri
ces lower than the lowest.