The Argosy — page 88: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Poor Aunt Deb! 73 that had been accumulating for years, and in the dim twilight stole out from that cottage a girl no longer, but an outraged, despairing woman. “How the long toilsome journey comes back to me now. I travelled partly on foot, and partly by coach, when such accommoda- tion was to be met with, till I found myself at last on the outskirts of a large town through which a canal ran. On its banks I have still a recollection of resting before I sought a shelter for the night. ‘‘ God knows why I chose so dreary a spct for a resting place; but He, in His mercy, brought me rough but honest friends where least I might expect to find them. There, on that lonely water’s edge, I realised how unfit and unable I was for such a journey. I suppose I must have fainted, for I remembered nothing more till I found rnyself in the small cabin, which for many more days sheltered me from certain death. . “The old boat woman, with the tenderness of the most noble lady, had seen me there; and guessing, doubtless, from my travel-stained look that I was a stranger in the place, had taken me in and done her best to restore me to consciousness. ‘Then I told her as much as I could of my story, and being unable to move [ lay there till the tiny babe, which should have been the source of so much joy and thankfulness, was ushered into this world of sorrow amidst these strange surroundings. ‘The good woman told me its hours were numbered, and that if the barge could reach some village in time, she would send for the clergyman and have it duly baptised.” ‘“‘ But why didn’t she tell me that, and wait next morning to see what we could do for you?” I said. “Ah, I can scarcely tell. I remember your face of compassion. And then, in the early dawn, when I was gaining some little strength, I found we had travelled many miles down the canal, as the barge was obliged to reach a certain place by the following day. My poor little child had breathed its last, and when we reached the unlading place, she and her husband arranged for its burial in the appointed place in their own names. _ I stayed in their humble home for some weeks ; and then, after giving them all the little sum of money I possessed, save what I needed for my journey to the country town of A—, I left them with my heart full of gratitude for their compassion to a lonely stranger, and found myself in a few hours at my aunt’s door. ‘“‘ How pleased she was to see me, how she recognised me by my likeness to her long-estranged brother, it is unnecessary for me to tell you. Sut I could not unburden my heart of all its sorrows. They seemed too deep for words to tell. And she, good kind soul, never enquired very much, thinking I had stayed with friends or neigh- bours. So the matter sank quietly into oblivion. Her delicacy of health was so great that my presence and service came to her Pet. xv, i COMICOOOKS.C© mn