Tales and Sketches.

Wairarapa Daily Times, Volume 4, Issue 1049, 15 April 1882, Page 2 (Supplement)

Tales and Sketches.

• HESTER'S DOWER/ " Hero comes Jeremiah Razee. I'll just run and ask liira to tako tho yarn to tlio village, if you'll get it ready,"Heater," bo saying, Sirs. Burrill rushed: out bareheaded to tlio road, stopped tlio farmer as ho eamo along in his markot waggonj and explained to ;liim' that ,Mr. Burrill was .busy with all' the men, and if the yarn was not taken 'to tho weavers soon, Pationce and Wait would liavo no dresses ready for winter. As she 'chatted on,' Hester Arnold came out of tho house,' aiid brought two large bundles, which she handed with an ungracious air to Mr. Razee,: who -said he would leave them John 'Mowry, the weaver. / "Toll him," said Mrs. Biirrilll "to weave one piece all blue, an' have the wrap red an' tho iillin' blue in the other." : " I guoss I'll remember," said Mr. Razee, stowing away the bundles, and adding, as he leaned over the waggon Beat, with his face turned from, her, "How do ye do, Hester? Stayin'.with Mis'Burrill!" ; . " Yes,(' answered Hestor, shortly/ > "ShUbael's kinder poorly," pursued the farmer, with apparent irrelevancy. "It's drotful onconvenient, his bein' sick jest now; but, somehow, Shubael never was handy at choosin' the. right: time for doin' anything," Hestfir.'flushed angrily; the farmer smiled grimly, and went on; " 'Taint near so bad as havin' Jabez sick would ha' been j but then Jabez wouldn't ha' been sick afore the fall work was done.". :; : ; "I sent word," said Mrs, Burrill, "to Shubael, this mornin', to come here an' make us all some shoes, as soon as he could. Otis got in the leatherlast week." V Oh, I guess; he's well enough to do that now,"aaid Mr. Razee, thoughtfully. "I'll sco that he comes round to-morrow."

Hester Arnold was the tailoress from the village. She was a Btraight, tall, dark, handBomo .woman of thirty-fivo. Just now an angry light glittered in her eyes. She knew what. Farmer Razee meant by saying that Shubael bad never chosen the right timo to do anything, She remembered very well the day, fifteen years before, when Shubael had asked her to marry him, and she,.furious from some quarrel with Jeremiah, who also courted her, had refused the man she had loved ever since she had fought childish battles for him, Shubael had no energy, aud when. Hester, his solo moral support, the only person except his mother who had evor behoved in him, fell fiway from him angrily, he was utterly downcast,'and sank atoneo into the character lie had ever since maintained of a harmless ne'er-do-well, Hester long:hoped he would come back to her, but he never had the courage. Jabez never married, Jeremiah, after Hester had refused hiin, straightway took a wife, who toiled for him several years, and then died childless—-

a desert life that left no trace! Shubael helped to do farm work, made shoes at odd times, and solaced his dreary days by writing doggerel verses, which, when writteu, he hid carefully from the scornful eyes of his brothers. ■ Next afternoon, while Hester and Mrs. Burrill's children were gathering autumn leaves, they heard the rumbling of a waggon, and Hester looked up to see Jeremiah Razee driving along the road. Oil the seat beside him sat Shubael. To her surprise Jeremiah drew up his horse violently at sight of her, and descended to the ground, throwing the reins to Shubael, who took them without lifting his eyes. As Jeremiah walked towards Hester, she started away, feeling defiant and alarmed, but he stopped her. " Hester," said he in a low tone, " you may tell Mlb' Burrill I took her yarn an' gin her message'all straight. We're on our way now to the village, I want to git my tire reset, an' Shubael has broke his best awl, an 1 must gett anothor ef he's goin' to make shoes." ■ Hester perceived a slight embarrassment in the farmer's manner, and grew cool, She answered in loud, clear tones, which the shamefaced man in the waggon could not fail to hear: " I really haven't the least desire to know why you're goiu' to thovillago, Mr. Razee. I never was particularly interested in your movements, you know; and I can't say that I am.very much concerned aboutShubael's awl neither, as he don't even take pains to speak tome." Shubael,raiscd his head at this, and something like a manly gleam came into his dull oyes, , "I don't speak to you now, Hester," he said, but I will when Jeremiah has had his say," "Hold your tongue!" shouted Jeremiah, and poor Shubael cowered a little. Hester was. certainly made of Btrange stuff that her heart did not grow cold to the timid man, but there are some women to whom love is like death. Once struck by it, nothing oures them, • " " I don't see the need of anybody's saying anything,"said she, inconsequently, "But I do I" growled Jeremiah, coming closer to her, " I want a few things settled afdre Shubael goes to Mis' Burrill's to make them shoes. Be you ready to listen to me, at last ? : You know as well as Ido that I haint'been shif'less nor behindhand in my affairs, 1 in' you couldn't do better. An 1 so the iofig an'short.of It is, will you marry me? I hjiin't nothin' to say agin my wifeshe was a good woman an' a good worker, but you know that I never see tho woman that I thought fit to hold a candle to you," Hester wickedly let him go on with his declaration till he brought it to a full stop himself, She had a fierce delight in the moment, His agitation and the unseemly manner of bis proposal showod her that he feared to have Shubael go to Mrs. Burrill's while she was there. Perhaps they had had words about her I Jeremiah's fear shot hope into Hester's heart. She spoke again in a loud, clear tono: "No, Mr,' Razee; you had my answer long ago.!' Jeremiah started towards her, as if he would stop her scornful.mouth, but she laughed bitterly in. his face. He grew, very white, and stood still, looking at her. Shubael, at this moment, sprang from the waggon, and walked rapidly to the woman, and held out his hand. !' I'm only a broken-dowu man," he choked, " but—will you have mo ?" She silently laid her hand in his, The elder brother jumped into his waggon, - struck the horse heavy blows, and drove away,. As tho waggon rattled over tho brow of the adjacent hill, Hester and Shubael turned to see the two little girls staring wideeyed, frightened and amazed, " Never mind that old fellow," said Hester with a trembling laugh, "and let's pick up tliq oak leaves for Patience and Wait, justm wo. used to when wo wore no bigger 'll thoy, Shubael." So these two were engaged, to the astonishment. of the countryfolk, and Jeremiah's wrath waxed ever greater as the days went by, ; The Burrill children reported all they had comprehended of the strange scene they had witnessed, so that it came to bo generally understood that Hester had refused Jeremiah in the presence pf his brother. Some jeering . speeches-about it were made to. the old 0 farmer,'who swore that ho would yet take his rovenge on tin! woman, These threats were reported by Moso a.' niy Bw , m Almy, the most shiftless man in —but, Hester only laughed in dowurigm, contempt, a laugh of which, in turn,'old Ranzee was told, and his evil passion blazed yet higher,.,' The loVtirs were married five weeks after 1 their engagement, They hired a house with

Mose Almy 1 , Thowintor woro happily away. The luckless Moses and the helpless Shubael took kindly to each other. Hester did her own work, and tried to infuse some order into the proceedings of tho Almy half of the house. Sho still took in sewing, but also laid up stores of hpmoly-houaehold wealth for herself—linen and braided mats,'and yarn ready to be woven.; She was not a demonstrative v|oman, but tho shoemakonvhonuhe served iii such a wifely waywas nevertheless a liv- ; ing: poem to her. Hia gentle manner, his pathetically feeble fancies, embodied for her all that was beautiful and lovablb under heaven, while she seemed to him wholly adorable in her atrength and potency. ■'■■■■■ |When spring came, Hester withdrew her • money from the village bank and gave it to Shubael, bidding him buy a lot of land and straightway "begin to build a house, He stared blankly at her, ;as she put tho savings of years into his hands, She laughed happily, and' said,'" That's the one thing that Keeps nie from bein' sorry I didn't marry you'when you asked me first.' If I had, I.shouldnover have had anything to give you." •■': •■;!■ ! At this tender speech, the Yankee shyness of the husband i melted, and he kissed his wife, i He.had long before spent his.paternal inheritance, and Before .his marriage had lived ! with his brothers, a mere day-laborer on tlieir land,: Nowsomo homesick instinct prompted: him, and he bought of them a corner of'the old farm .ornvhich to : erect his humble dwelling, It was a very little house, but in the fall Hester and her husband moved into'it with unmixed pride and satisfaction. TJliero they spent six contented months, and then the ishoemaker fell ill, It was spring fever, the wife said, as she nursed him; but spring passed, June came, and; he grew no better, till at last a bitter trutli forced itself into her consciousness with that unrelenting persistency with which bitter truths will int udo. ■.'•.,:.- When the July heat was fiercest, Shubael sank rapidly. "I guess,", he said one day,• gasping in the hot air that burned his throat -j-" I guess heaven 'll be cooler than this 'ere world, and maybo it 'll suit me better, some-how-maybe it will. I was alius a round peg in a Square hole here, Hester, except for you;" and his faint, spiritualised smile conveyed his tender gratitude for the love that had " suited" his latter days so well, In a moment he spoke again, while the dark, handsome woman hung over him with yearning eyes,. "Iguess, Hester," he said, "I sha'n't find nothin'.in heaven that I'll like i better'n I'vo liked you, So I hope you won't ■ keep mo waitin'long," i "I'd .go with you, if I could," she i whispered. ■ -j "Yes," he said, smiling feebly again, • " You'd make it seem more home-like among ; all the angels an' the jewels an' the music." When the cool of the evening came mercit fully down, Hester sat alone by hor husband's • body.

' Four days after the funeral Jeremiah Razee liuocked loudly at the widow's door. Hester opened it herself, and turned her hard eyes on the farmer's face, Since her marriage, neither he nor Jabez had come near her, Thoy had not even attended poor Shubael's funeral.

" Why do you come now?" asked she, The farmer smiled with slow malice, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he stood on the little stone step, which Shubael and Hester had laid in place together, . . .' " I come on business," said he, at last, " I hain't no business with you, nor never mean to have!" retorted the widow,

: "No ?" said he, inquiringly, " Wal, I've business with you. Shall I step in ?" [ "No, Whatever you have to say, you may say here." "Eh? Wal, I guess not, I guess I'd rather walk in,"

; " You sha'n't do no such thing." j " Wal, I kin wait a little about that, Shu-, baeldidn't leave no,.will, did he?" "It's none o' your business I" cried Hssfcer, "Yes, it is some o' my business, Because, if he didn't, the biggest part of this house an' lot happens to belong to me 'n' Jabez, I hain't said nothing about it afore. Waited till now, thinkin' if there was a will you'd be glad enough to produce it I s'pose you know you'vo only got your widder's dower, if there ain't no will,

"My widow's dower 1" cried she. "Why, I gave Shubael every cent he had to buy this land, an' most of money for the house; an' the rest of it we earned together, he makin' shoes an' I sewin', after we was married. He hadn't but three dollars when he married riie."

"No, I calk'lated not. He never was forehanded, and never saved nothin'. I alius told him ho was a fool not to lay up for a rainy day, but luok stqod him instead of thrift, He was lucky in marryin' you—luckier 'n some other folks was, then. But now he's dead, an 1 it's my turn," ': Dazed and furious, Hester cried in a low voice, " You wretch! I)o you mean to talk of such things, and Shubael only four days in His grave?" ' Then she turned away, and sobbed as she had never sobbed since her husband died.

: "Wait till you're axed, ma'am, afore you think a man wanta to marry you," said Jeremiah, blqwlv. "What I mean is that Jabez an'me'owns two;thirds of this house an' lot now, as Shaubael's heirs, an'yqu have the use of one-third for life, an'that's all. Yon can stay here if you want to, by payin' rent for .'tho'other two-thirds, We won't turn you out, but if you choose to go I've got a tenant in my eyo, an' you'll have your share of the rent he pays. As for the furniture, you own half, an' I'll send up the officer this arternoon, to make an inventory, an' divide" it square. I won't walk in now, as you don't seem hospitable in yourfeelin's; but p'raps you'll remember, arter I'm gone, how many times you've thought you'd got the best of me,"

When he had finished, the farmer turned away, walked through the little yard out into the road, got into his waggon, whioh waited there, and with a grim smilo drove on to the village. When he was out of'sight Hester went into the house, and, though she knew her hiißband had novor made a will, searched in every possible and impossible place where one might be hid. After this fruitless task was done, she put on her bonnet and walked to tho village.. The day was sultry, the air was hot, but her heart was hotter. She stopped on her way, and told her story to Mose Almy's wife, asking her to go back to the house she had left ana keep guard there, lest the man should'come while it was empty to make an inventory of the mats she had braided, the linen she had stitched, and the furniture that she and her husband had gathered around them. Mrs. Almy, full of sympathy, willingly left her house in frightful dtßordor and her seven Bmall children gloriously happy in the dirt, and. departed for Hester's cottage.' ■ . ■ The widow went to Mr. Burgess, the village lawyer, and related her grievance, 1 "you gan't help yourself," said he, "The law is on their side," • | She twisted a fold of her gown in her hand a moment '' Will' you come baok with mej" she said at last, "an 1 seo. that there ain't no cheating dono this afternoon!" ' j They found Mose Almy's wife standing in the i doorway,; gesticulating furiously,: and screaming at the top of her voice, : Jeremiah Bazoo and the officer wero confronting her doradlyi '"''' • i- " - shan't come 1 in here, neither on ye," 'j" *<»;.•„ * imv- I 'not ijll'Hester gets here! .You'renothin'bu». '

sneakin' thieves, both on ye I" ' '''•.!' Jeremiah turned to„Mr. Burgess, as he en-

tered'the yard with Heater j but before lie pould speak alio walked-,by thorn all, flung ppen the house door, and called to them to come in. Sho followed them round, as they went from room to'room,' She opened' every chest and drawer, She verified every memo-. randum that the officer made; and finally diampqd himjvith bitter politeness. ,- ;; "He's only hired," sho said; then turning to Jeremiah, with blazing eyes, "but between ybu'n' me tho account ain't settled yet." ■ j"lfo," said;,thefatmeri "it ain't,: John Bates is the man I. epoko ito of you this iriornin',, as wantln* to hire the place, '■ He's concluded that two-thii'da of the house will do foj him, * His. family, ain't large, an' he'll move in noxt.week, an' you kin live in the other part without payin'ino. rent, 1 There's Bix.rooms in; ; th« : house. v'You kin have any two you like." ... ■ iMra/ Almy gasped with amazement,:,and Mr. Burgess : Baid, "I think you're rather stretching your.authority." •" We'll see,",answered,Jeremiah; putting hjsiilmnds in his 'pockoti; ; :";¥oii ain't the. only lawyer in- the, county, : Any way, she otasj ine 'n' Jabez rent.for 'eyery day she stjays here 'nV keeps the house .empty, ". . | "(Where is Jabez ?" asked Mr. Burgess. 'Jeremiah looked a little embarrassed,'and Hester said quietly, " I guess he was, ashamed to come. It takes such as; him 1" and : Bhe pointed at Jeremiah, fell baok : slightly; cowed,,.; ■. , ;... ; . ■

I '.'.The widqw:has a right to atay for a time without paying rent," said Mr, Burgess, ~ j Jeremiah j looked up, ; surprised, 'and the lawyer explained to him that he. could not carry out his plana for • some months, yet; Mrs. Almy uttorcd a cry of triumph, but Heater stood in unmoved silence, till the farmer, somewhat discomfited,-took his leave, When ho had gone, Hester looked at Mr. Burgess, and asked simply, ", Will you tell I me how it; is ? I want ■to understand all about it, and how.it cornea that I don't own the land I bought, nor \\w house I built," | The lawyer.went over the legal details in a painstaking manner, and dwelt at length on the one mercy the law granted her, that she might stay in the house unquestioned for some time yet,'• " But after. that I owe him rent for. every day?" she asked. Ho .assented, and she said, "Thank yon. That'll do. I understand now. I'll pay you, Mr, Burgess, when I've earned some monoy," 1 "It is no matter," he said, "I wish I could do more for you," ; Then he too went away,.-and Mrs. Almy sought to console Hester, offering to stay all night, and let her spouse and offspring shift for themselves as b.est they might. ~-■ : " I'd rather stay aloue, please," was Hester's reply; and gently thanking her for all her kindness, she let the woman go. Iu the same quiet way she met and dismissed Mr. and Mrs. Burrill when they came later oh an errand of sympathy. When they too had gone, she sat down a littlo while _ in the kitchen, From that room she went into the tiny sitting-room, and thence to her own bedroom, In each she stayed a few minutes, sitting quite motionless, and all the time she seemed to see Shubael moving about before her, as he had been wont to do. After a time she dragged out from her room an old chest that had bt>en her husband's. She had

difficulty in getting it through the doors, and Bhe remembered how alio and Shubael had tugged at it together to bring it in, She persevered, and pulled it out of the house, through the yard, and across the road. Then she went back,' gathered together Shubael's clothing, a few books, some papers on which he had written his ill-spelt verses, and a few pieces of cliiua, This incongruous collection, with some of her own clothes, she carried and put in the chest, She shut down the lid of the box, and nailed it fast, Next, she rolled and corded the mats, and dragged them and some of the lighter furniture out. She took the tall clock to pieces, and carefully conveyed that also across the road. When she had done this she stood still, and sobbed once or twice. It was nearly morning now, and Hesters' motions were a little hurried, as she went back into the house, and tied up a bundle of her linen and blankets. When she had done this, she went into tho kitchen, and stood still an instant, looking round on the fchiugs she had left untouched. I : " I guess," she said aloud, resting her hands on her hips—" I guess I've left a full half in value hero." : Then she brought from the woodshed a quantity of small wood, of whioh she made 1 two great heaps, one on the kitchen floor, and the other in the sitting-room. She emptied round them a barrel of corn-oobs, and strewed about all the paper she could, find, She next took a burning stick from the fire-place, where she had been careful to keep alive a fire, carried it to the sitting, room door and flung it in upon the pile of light wood. With another brand she deliberately lighted the kindlngs on the kitchen floor, Then she drew her skirts close around her, wont out of tho door, and closed it behind her. She crossed th,e road, and sat down on Shubael's chest, She saw a red glow shine through the kitchen window, and a fainter light from the sitting-room, She stared steadily till all the house was lighted, It was half an hour before a flame leaped from the roof, but till she saw it she never turned her eyes away, Then she covered her face, and waited, while the sun rose before her in the east, and sent his beams across the flames. . . i Ten minutes after sunrise Jeremiah and Jabcz Eazee came running up the road. Jlester, in her black dress, sat quietly, with Her household goods around her, '. ''How did it ketch2" screamed Jeremiah, while still afar off, ' Hester was silent till the brothers were quite near, and then answered, "I set it on fire., Shall wo settle upacoounts now, Mr. Razee ?" ■

"You set it on fire!" he cried. "But wlio saved these things "I brought out my half before! lighted it," said Hester. Jeremiah swore, Jabez, who was a church member, uttered a more pious ejaculation, "I will settle with you!".. said Jeremiah, shaking his fist jn tho woman's face. She auswered with a disdainful look, and the two men turned to see if anything could be done to save the house. A moment's investigation convinced them it was too, late, and they sat down sullenly near Hester, and stared as she had dono at the flames, till in a few minutes a troop of neighbors arrived on the sceneMqse Almy'B wife in front, and the Burrills not far behind, .-,.,.

Jeremiah theu rose, and started for the village. In an hour he came back with the constable. Hester was still there, surrounded by her friends'. To the consternation of the, crowd, she was formally arrested for arson, She had not foreseen this consequence of her act, but instantly perceiving the situation, she-rose calmly to follow the officer. ."Take care of them things," she said quietly to Mrs, Almy, " You can give 'em store-room while I'm gone, _ can't you ? And don't you never let Jeremiah Razee lay his finger on'em." Some women began to cry, and Mr. Burrill stepped up to Jeremiah, and said fiercely, "You're the meanest critter I ever Bee I"

"That's my lookout," answered Jeremiah "It's the law." ...."..',

" May bo it is the law," said Mr. Burrill, f'that a : woman'B own property.don't belong tqher; but as men are all sinners, I s'pose it's nigh about as easy for 'em to sin inakin', lawsasanyothorway." ,'"'. ; ■',■• ■'... ' testier was taken to the couijty gaol in, the cjty, twelye -ir|iles. off, in due time was brought to trial, and .was sentenced to.imprisoninent for two years. , Some, of her old neighbours wanted to get her pardoned j but they were simple country, people, aiidhavdly knew hW to'approach'the State magnate^

so nothing effectual was dono, and she was ' allowed to serve.out her dreary se'ntonce. Jeremiah-Razee, thus left to taste the- ■ sweets of vengeance,-found them lest sweet than he had anticipated, His neighbours ■looked coldly on him,; His jirisocial.keart could liavo borne that, but there was one thing that grew difficult for him to liear.Workashard as he could, early and late, busy hisirhind as he' would, c'aloulating profits, he could not shut put from his eyes the sight of Hester as ho had last seen her, in her .widow's dress, a prisoner at; the bar, and' under conviction.' The stern,' pallid face rose with the dawn and looked at him; and the v ßun, sinking while the old'man still toiled on his farm, left behind a trail of accusing' light which showed that changed countenance to him.'- How changed. Ho remembered the dark-eyed child whose saucy ways had charmed even his morose nature. He looked back and forth over the country roads, as business called him here and there, and memories started up at the top of every hill, in every valley under the shade of the old trees j memories, 1 too, of a timid, shrinking 'lad with beseeohing eyes, whose manhood had withered away under his contempt, Onco the old farmer had occasion to go to the city, and was forced to pass the gaol, He shuddered as he passed by. In that'gaol, a disgraced outcast, laboured Hester, whoni he had known as a little child; a convict now, because she-had resented the law which gave to her enemy the fruits of hor life's toil and patience. Jeremiah drove hard all the way home, ; The next day he astonished Jabez by'telling him that he was going' over the lino to visit the Massachusetts branch of the family. : Ho went, and in two weeks returned, to I his brother's still greater astonishment,' with one of their second cousins as his wife. She

was a tall; bony, hard-featured woman of forty,' who spoke her mind freely on any point, and, having thus relieved it, went her

way untroubled. When she heard Hester's story, which alio had not known till after she was married, she told her husband emphatically that he ought to bo ashamed of himself, and thon never gave the matter another serious thought. 1 Jeremiah, howover, found that marriage had' not driven that haunting

face from his mind, and he was still conscious of a force stirring within him that made him less satisfied than of yore in contemplating his cattle'and his crops, After a time his wife gavo birth to a child, and died in the struggle,' Jeremiah was smitten With terror and griof.: He had not had a particle of sentiment for his wife; ho had married her hoping to distract his mind from thoughts of Hester, but he felt as though her death were

a judgment upon him. The months rolled on, and greatly to his

own surprise the old man's heart, like ice broken by many storms, began to melt and flow tenderly forth around a tiny clingiug baby, When the time of her sentence was over,

Hester came from her prison, Mr. and Mrs. Burrill went for her on the day of her release, and brought her home, They reached the gaol early in the morning, so as to get hdv back before noon. .They carried her garments in which to array herself, but were shocked to see how stony and white she looked in the black go ra they had brought. At her request they took her to Mose Almy's, Mrs, Almy bustled about hospitably, laughing and crying by turns, She told all the country gossip, and proudly showed her newest baby, "Ellen," she said, "after Mose's sister that died—jest two weeks youuger'n Jeremiah Razee's boy. They do say, Hestor, that the old man thinks a sight of that baby, Queer, ain't it, Takes care on him nights, jest like an old woman, It seems as ef he was comin' to his nateral feelin's at last."

"Comin' out on 'om, I should say," said Hester. "All his nateral feelin's was hateful ones."

Towards night the widow wandered forth restlessly. She had not taken a walk for two years. It was autumn again, four years since she and Shubael gathered the red oak leaves with hands that clasped among their spoils. The glory that she saw hurt her, The land was brimming full of sunshine, and its beauty mocked her, The garnered joy of the harvest basked on the hill slopes-what had been the harvest of her life! She had reaped a crop she had not sown, and the hazy smile of the Indian summer was not for her,

. On she went, till she came to a pasture of the Razee farm, close beside the little inclosure where her home had been, She leaned agaiust the wall, and with heart-sick eyes looked over. The blood rushed to her heart and stopped its beating. She saw a man running from an infuriated bull, She saw other men rising upon her sight from all quarters, rushing to the resoue, She saw the man fall; she saw the animal reach him j she heard sharp reports, The bull rolled ovor in wounded agony. The pursuers oaught up the fallen man, They bore him through the field; Hester cKmbing the wall, following, reaching them, helping them, till they halted under an old apple-troe close to the wall that separated the pasture from the lot where the ashes of her old home still strewed the ground. Hester had no time to think, She was not conscious of herself at all, till she found that she was sitting under the appleladen branches, the sunset light all about her, and Jeremiah Razee's head in her lap. They dared not mbve him further. He lay very quiet, groaning a little. They feared some internal injury,. Some one went for a doctor. Hester sat still, mcchanigally smoothing his hair, After a while, ho opened his eyes, and as he saw her a look of torror camo into them, as'though ho had seen a'ghost, He tried to move.

'' Lay still," she said j '' you mustn't stir, We're (Join' all we can for you." "Is it really you?" he asked, with that frightened look, "Yes," she said, " Don't let nothin' worrit you; jest keep quiet." ' "Beyou-out?" "Oh, yes." "I'm—glad," he Bai,dwith a long sigh, and closed his eyes. Sometimes he writhed with pain, but the greater part of the time he lay motionless, almost as if he wero asleep. His attendants worked over him, trying to ascertain the extent of his injuries and relieve them somewhat before the doctor came,

At last ho looked up again at Hester's face. It was flushed, and her emotions gave it a softer aspect than he had seen it wear for long years. He spoke in a weak but determined voice, evidently meaning to have his say, in defiance of pain and ebbing strength; but he paused often, and crushed back the groajis with sot lips, ■ "It ain't no use j I'm done for. Hester, it's jest the same as it alius was with me. I ain't no hand to ax anybody's' pardon, but I never see the woman as I thought fit to stun' beside you. When you was a leetle redcheeked gal—cheeks like apples—an 1 when you was a woman grown, as couldn't abide me, jest the same ;an' I hated you because I liked you, our'us it seems, No, don't stop me-I'm 'most done. Hester, there's that baby of mine, Somehow, a baby takes hold on ye tight with his leetle fists. I'd rather you'd bring him up nor anybody else, Will ye?" " Yes, yes, I will," she cried.

He smiled slowly. "You kin call him Shubaolj" he said j '.' then he won't put ye in mind o'me." ■

, She sobbed, "I'll Iqve him as if he was Shubael'sson."' '

, A little later, Jeremiah Ra?ee, there, in sight of those memorial ashes, died peacefully, his head on Hester's knees,'hisgrey hair floating over her mourning dress..

"\\ APROPOSvi)E^()T||#'^ : | ; Dayles was tall, dark, and vera handsome. A charming fellow, easily ex' cited,-bntbold .and.«ourageou3.aß;a;li.on,.*He: married aljout ago. a little Parisendo^bfirafto .beAutyi. J She wag of an oxcollent . family,. .adored-.by. Dayles,.received,.a good dot; which' was^vcllj"'aTWo was extravagantly, fond of dress.' '■•■..• •■ '->. : ; ; Madame Dayles', name ,wa?, Fanny. Sho ■wasan only daugKter'and'Vflsided ; ',with.'her . pai'eiitsia'.the'Ch^uasee"d'/'Autin.';, Sho'ad- r mired,'a 1 .'handsome^mitri,.;was .devoted,^6 ; waltzi'ng'and.boubo.ns, 'Of course,.her love"; for .dress engendered a. desire for,' coquetryj j but while admittfug the same, 'in'order ra be,. just, we will add'tnat.'she dearly,loved her husbaud, and'even Her. besifrieniis, 'those who, professed sincere attachment'.but in-, dulged. in an'occasioiial treat of scandal,; could find no lia'w,.tp pick, 'no 'ropaoh' to' herald. ' Nothing'.nncdn.veiiti.6nal was noted. in hor deportment, But if her acquaintances did hdt'a'ttaclc her theyexliauated every adjective as regards her toilets. Fault 'waSjfound with the.,length,'of her 'dregs-it' ,was thought, either too short,or too' longShe,was said to air a silly, fondness.'for extravagant, display; ;' Her .dainty, feet were considered absurdly' small, but no'bno could. ■ deny' their beauty.. Regrets were expressed], that,aho.laced top.tightly;.' while if was'.as-' serted that, the weight'of the.false hair, she ordinarily, carried would eventually, bring on brain fever.', Her earrings, were'ridiculouslylong, her combs grotesque, her dresses' decidedly deallette. In fact, they exhausted' the litany, of dissatisfaction. The trutli.'is, i that Madame Dayles, finding the.fashions; irresistibly lovely, followed them''to the letter, and in that respect became a' liohiie modeme, ' . ; ■''.''■■'•'.'..''. .] ',, Her husband had protested with her upon this subject, and permitted himself,a.'few observations, such as, for example:' ','''', \ "Fanny, my darling! why'do y° u wear :such conspicuous taSsola. to'your .boots? ' Whoh'we are promenading almost every one looks at your feet," '"' ."'..", ['-. ■„■■','. "And do you think my b'oots';fit'woll?"' , " Remarkably well, .'.But' could; you not wear, your dresses, a /«We. longer, and by so doing conceal your feet from observation?" Fanny cousented to do so, but'seeing so many fashionable 'women doing, as 'she had done she returned to her old.style, ;i Besides, her husband made an absolute plaything of his wife, and his indulgence knew no limits'. He paid all her mantle-maker's, jeweller's, and perfumer's bills without looking, save at the amount necessary to liquidate the same. He even subscribed to La Vie, Parisenne for Fanny. This mode of proceeding seemed to offer great encouragement to Madame Dayles to gratify every whim, Last summer immense trunks were ordered —absolute houses—and they were closely packed with exquisite toilets. First they went to Trouville, then to Baden, They had been in this cosmopolitan paradiso eight days. Everything seemed charming-the promenades, the fetes, the music. During the day the noise of the leaves stirred by the breeze could be heard; at night the sound of gold. Fair Fanny was enchanted, and her costumes had been most successful; already some had been badly imitated.' Fanny was radiant. The baths were doing her infinite good; her weight had increased, Charles was the happiest man at Baden. One evening when retiring he seemed decidedly sad, During their stay in the parlour devoted to conversation two gentlemen en passant had commented in an audible voice upon the appearance of Fanny, Of course they admired the lady, and particularised her attractions too minutely. That evening Charles induced his wife to retiro at an early hour, "Really we are going to bed with the chickens," Madame Dayles remarked, "Mydarling," responded Charles, "you must not lose your beauty—sleep." 3 " Have you discovered that I look ugly ?" . " No; but an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure." The following day after dinner Charles and his wife went on the terrace in order to enjoy the fresh air. It was the hour at which the concert was given. Fanny wore a dress composed of three skirts with graduated flounces, and a most coquettish hat, She was seated, and a pair of charming blaok satin boots, with French heels and rose-coloured tassels, could be plainly seen, Notwithstanding the height of the boots, the embroidered stockings were revealed.

I forgot to remark the robe was a shorl one,

A gentleman in passing remarked to hi companion: "Look at that foot, and what a charmin| ancle!"'

Charles heard the remark, but pretondei not to have done so,

Again the gentleman passed with his acolyte and loudly repeated the sameopinion, Charles still oommanded himself, but his annoyance could be plainly seen by the manner he had compressed his lips, " Let us return to the parlour," he suggested, "And why should we do so?" questioned Fanny. "It is positively stifling there." " Suppose wo go to the theatre ?" "Doyou wish toasphuiateme, Charles? What in the world ails you this evening? Generally jou enjoy yourself upon the terrace,"

"So as to be more comfortable, my darling, I will sit in front of you. I'do not care' to seo the people, and I can hear the musio justaswoll," And Charles, who'had been sitting beside his wife,' arose and 'placed his ; chair in front of Eanny. " Oh, do not remain there I "exclaimed the lady, "As you are not transparent I am prevented Beeing the audience. Do resume your seat beside me." ■ ■ Charles hesitated for a moment, and then yielded, The gentleman who had annoyed him obstinately passed again, and stopping with his friend glanced at Fanny's boots and remarked; by no means sotto voce ::'■■'■ "Look! Venus might have gloried in possessing such pretty feet," ;Ashe pronounced these words he remained rudely standing before the ehair of Fanny. Dayles bruspely arose, '■' "What ails you?" asked madame, who had been engrossed by- a bizarre toilet of some foreigner. "Nothing," responded Charles, "I only wanted my cigar case." As he spoke Monsieur Dayles drew from hi 3 pocket a straw ease, and opening it withdrew a Londres, " You have, I suppose, no objection to my smoking ?" he added, reseating himself. "None whatever."

The gentleman continued to gaze at Madame Dayles, being only a few'steps from where she was seated.

"I have forgotten my alluinettes," observed Charles) rising as he spoke!' "I will ask this gentleman to favour me," he added ( as he-straightway approached the impertinent stranger, who was also smoking, "Will you allow me to light my cigar fronvyours, monsieur?" questioned Dayles.', The individual so addressed offered, his cigar!- ChaTles lighted his own, and then returning. the weed he addressed. the'following words: '1 command you,' 1 to said, in a resolute whisper, " to avoid again passing between that row of chairs,', You understand mo ? 'V, " Perfectly," was the cool rejoinder, ''. Both, bowed. Monsieur "Dayles returned to his wife, and accompanied by his, friend the stranger continued his promenade', '!How extremely intimate those gentle-; men appear to' be," observed Fanny, "They are always together.", ~., ';:','•,.■•• ' "They are probably birds of a feather,"

party in question, „ , . Having reached the extreme end of the terrace, lie (jaw .them,turn deliberately au.l imperturbably retrace tHeif fitepr: : " Look, Charles, "exclaimed Vfadame Dayles, "there is a shooting star I" ■" Andiyou saw it firafc! It is an omeirof good luck, i , Let us ,go andrisk a few louis.' Who knows'.but' that porchance yoil-may double yotfr venture;'' ''

; i Madame Daylea arosfi with v aVidity, Well pleased to indulgeur.the proposed pleasure, i "Is not Jacques over there?" continued 'Gharles, arm to his wife, ".Why, 'of course, it 'is my- friend Jacques, au old college mate of Siiinte-Barbe',' Braile, who is with him, is a'lucky dog at Girds;.' Corns;/he'will show'you how to-play while 1 1 finish my'cigar." 'oi./- : I-; As he . spoke 'Mojisieur Diiylea er63sed''to' tlie gentleman ; alluded ; . : to, ariclivas greetedcordially. ; aoi';. v.; i.-,; .•i; r.-'t • , "My dear fellow," he said,' addressing'Einild Bloudet,.'' allow infi to corifidie madairie' •to "your dare for(a':few ,: minutes: ' She has twen'ty-five'louia to'nsk, and -'wishes tb .in ;; idulge ina game. l -'.Givo 1 her a 1 little'of your:good advice; i Go ; I* will'jbiii you'shortly-'iii : : the card-robing It may be as well," he added, as Emile offered his arm'to Fanny, "to ;bet onithe rouge; it was' far more lively than 7 the noil'." " ■' ■ ii.V" " Do not remain,long-" said Madame Day' les,: as Oharles w|ilked : away quietly smoking, For I 'liniss so much wlieii you are'absent!" - 1 '"'V'- ; "- :li •'; Having paid this 'delicate ' compliment- to her husband, Madame Dayles turned her attention to her companion and -entered the card room, chatting merrily." -• : An 1 hour after they patted Madame Dayles ■received a few lines from her husband,-' stating that business of importance would pre; vent him from returning until morning, : ' The request that she would rejoin l her frieuds at' the hotel was added;'

■ We triod to arrange the affair, but could not.' : Back of the • terrace; while the' ; Garde Republioaine was playing a delicious air from "Lucia,"'and Famiy flirting and chatting merrily in the oard room, ■ bayles met and struck the obstinate ■ and impertinent individual, Satisfaction 1 was demanded, and a 1 duel was 'thc result. At six o'clock on the following morniilg thy friend Charles Dayles : was killed in a duel by the man who hid made the impudent remarks regarding his wife's boots. " > V- : In expiation of her frivolity; Fanny Dayles still-wears burning mourning, and'it is confidently whispered ! that the Count de Cartu will soon lead her to the 'altar,- The on dit is that all the dresses of: the ti'ousseau are madewith demi-trains, so that, even should she be tempted to expose -her boots, she will be compelled to conceal them in'order to be graceful. 'Thus the Count, who is deemed a brave man to wed so dangerous a siren, may Have a chance' of dying by some less sudden death than that caused by a duel, ' i That a man. should live for. a woman's smile, and still better' for her love, is reasonable. But that in the absence of either he should die is a climax that rings dowu on a scene weaker than water '