Rensselaer Union, Volume 9, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 November 1876 — DOLLY’S LAST NIGHT. [ARTICLE]

DOLLY’S LAST NIGHT.

\ was striking 1 nine; not nine in the morning, bijtnino/jn tho evtnincr, which is a very ’different thing, as tEe old clock seemed to know, for it counted off the chime with a soft, sleepy roll, as if bent upcd making mb' least possible disturbance. , Dolly put the Cookies into the deep tin box that had held thousands of such dainties in its day, set the lid a-tilt upon the satisfaction at the great loaves peeping out from the white cloth that covered them, the row of pies on the shelf below, and the plump chickens tnteSed up sociably on the platter, and then came;put from the pantry and abut the ddor upon the savory smells'.’ Dolly was not a beauty, but she had a clear, frpsh face, and was full of health and vigor and 4>ntent. She was a model housekeeper, too as the old clock could hav* aha this was the first time it had been called upon to countenance such irregular doings as the turning of night-into* day.-.- But this was the night bCTere ‘Tnankegivmg, and when one is caotr, chambermaid, housekeeper and mistress of |k«*ma|pse, she certainly has a right to fegfaW&o fcer own days in spite of the almsßiis mah. ;

Yes, and nurse* beside; for on the lounge lay - Dolly’s mother, not exactly sick, but weak from a long fever that had left her ankles so swollen and painful that she could not walk a step without pafetadgß, Bess and Johnny had bwhaway it all, but now their fatherA&a goneror them, and early in npmping they would reach home—the pleasant prairie home, with its broad, boundless fields, from which they expected sqme day to reap a fortune. The in the kitchen, for the Marshalls cared a good deal more for com%yt ceremony, and Dolly’s kitchen, ytiih it§ clean, ybllow floor, bright rugs, white table, and window full of growing plantsydrils'B ffcmPus place for comfort. “ f hppeypu are through at last,” said Mrs Sl! jtarshall, looking up sleepily at Dolly*. / , buljitpe candy, and that’ll not take long,” said Dolly, cheerily. “For pity’s sake, *do let the candy go; tffl toulhrin are jjistas well off without it.” ■*‘\Mi, but I prbmiSed Johnny I’d have som^fof-Min, 'and it wouldn't seem like Thanksgiving without it. The nuts are all crackriffrahd I’ll sit here and pick out the goodie^while the molasses boils,” and the clean iron skillet, and pbufed the molasses,in So quickly “her mother >r«otdd Tondy say: “ You’ll kill yourself working so hard, and what good do you think that will do the children?” “Choogl choog!” said the molasses in its hurry to get-out of the jug, and Dolly spvUipd as she coaxed it to make less haste “ I’m touglf.as.a pine knot,”, she said, merrily; bat if I were really going to dMT ■Should like to have the children say, rilhe always Irlod to help tra have good fooliSh little moisture in Dolly’s eyes, as shedropped into the low* cushioned chair, the same old creaky chair in which her mother had rocked her when she was a baby, and in which she herself had locked Bess and Johnny scores of times. She was very tired, now T*feetfep#y lor herself. She fcven began to fancy what fe»y would all do wlthoht he^;-but ! just at that point the ihoa, sudden rush for the top of the skillet, and put an end to her musing. Mm: Mmsbiil roused up a little also, f, ‘‘It»9>strange to have Thasksgfvihg come without a flake of snow! Joel says it is as dry as midsummer, too. I,>never feel easy about the stacks until feofe’S ktexto falfof snow.” “'ind fathJfplw^ag^ofSipM^S AH stocks before he went away.” ’ “ Yes, I know. But what good would a few furrows do against a prairie ‘fire Lord’ll not let a fire state in .'sudh a time as this,” and Dolly seined her boiling sirup at the precise moment Or crispiness, poured it over tfef'tomiiWJfeite -kernels spread thickly to tifc*ehiflgW«ads, And set the Whole to b§ct kitchwi, t When everything waa tidy, and Dolly was rtertywhelp n*r mother to bed, the ■old clock ventured to remark, in the same soft purr si before, feahhonjy lacked two hours to midnight; to which Dolly smilingly answered that ’thanksgiving only wonder if Joel could have forgotten to water them before he went home.”

“Joel ought not to have scone home,” said her mother. “It isn’t right for two lone women to be left With no neighbors within a mile. Are you sure the fire is all right, Dolly? seams to me there’s a sfhell in here.” ‘ ' “It s the molasses, I dropped a little on the stove; but I’Ll go out and ude that all is right after you are in bed, and then we shall both feel better.” Dolly'went without her lamp, and as she passed the hall window she caught sight of a dull red glow down against,the dark horiaon. In another instant she stood oytskle.-her rosy color a]l blanched at sight of the fire sweeping down, the prairie on those swift, terrible wings of the west wind. For. an Instant she Was dizzy and confused with terror at the thought of her utter helplessness, then, as if a voice had repeated it to her, She recalled the verse she had read morning. “ What time I am afraid I will trust tn Thee," and, with a silent prayer for help, she went-back to her mother. “ The prairie is on fire,” she said, trying quietly.\ Her mother sprang from the bed, apd sank down almost funting from path.,,, “ O Dolly!” she gasped, “we shall die here all alone.”

“I’ll make a good fight first,” Bald Dolly, bravely. “ I must go and do'What I can, and you must wait here and jtrag. ■Only perhaps you had better get ,yste. clothes on again, in case of the worst.” Dolly throw some heavy shawls upon the bed, placed her mother’s clothes within reach, hugged her once and rushed away. In two minutes more she had put on Joel’s boots, tied up her curly head in an old comforter, and buttoned herself into her father’s coat. Bhe was'ready to fight fire, and she knew just how to do it. But, first, the colts must be taken from the low thatched stable that would he sure to blaze at the first spark. Already they were growing restless with the strong smell of smoke, and lhat strange intuition of danger which horses seem to possess. Dolly had some difficulty in leading them out, and then she Jjardly knew what to do with them, for she knew well enough they would go scouring off when the fire came near. She was a quick-witted little woman, however, and she soon had the colts in the back kitchen, tied fast to the old carpet loom. Then she filled the tubs and pails with water, and set them along* the line of the buildings, cut some heavy branches of hemlock, and brought out the horse-blankets and dipped them in water. The house, behind its clump of evergreens, might possibly escape, but there seemed luffe chance for the ’low barn, the granary, and the immense stacks of hay, yet in them lay their hopes for a year, and Dolly determined not Uj give them up Without a desperate struggle. She scarcely dared look at tho fire, butane saw once hoW a brighter light leaded up as the flames caught a barn or a stack of hay in the distance. As rapidly as possi ble she broadened the circle about the line of buildings, lighting the thick grass with One hand, and dashing out the flame With the other, when it threatened to go beyond her control. She felt almost guilty as she saw the blaze she had kindled go swdeping away towards the east, carrying the same terror to others which was rapidly coming down upon her, but it wag her bnly chance of escape, and there was not another house between ■ them and the river. She worked on in desperation'&S the air grew thick with smoke, and at last she could hear the roar and criuMb 1 when the flames swept the great cornfield, fairly leaping along the. rows jql dry. stalks. It was almost upon her, and s]je ran back within her burned circle, and waited for doom. . / ! •> Her hands were blistered, beT eye-lashes were burned off, but she did not know it. She only watched, with every nerve tense and throbbing, to see if the fire would leap the line. It died down a little in spots, crept sullenly along the edge, as jfe loth to go by, flamed up here and (faere at a bunch of tall weeds, then, with h- sttfl T den puff, the wind lodged a whirling handful of Cinders at the foot of the great straw stack!

Dolly sprang at it like a tiger, Jearing away die burning straw and striking right and left with the wet blanket. ' Then a little blaze crept under the fence, and she beat the life out of it in a breath. Anoth er whirl of cinders upon the roof of the stable, but they fell black and harmless. Then another blaze running along the edge of the shed, but the water was ready for it; and Dolly, with eves everywhere, rin, and beat, ana trampled, until at last tli’e fire veered away to the south, and left the little homestead safe in the midst of a blackened waste. > Dolly walked back and forth, 1 around the stacks and the buildings, whipping out the smallest sparks, and. then turned toward the house in a stupor of exhaustion. She wanted to lie right down on the warm ground by the side of the strawoile and go to sleep, but she had enough sene* left to reach the house, and make hpr way to her mother’s room. , f “ We’re all right, mother,” she said in a husky voice, “ the lire has gone by;” and dropping upon the bed, smoke, dirt, boots and all, she sank into a heavy sleep. Her mother tried in ain to rouse her, so she dragged the shawls over her ana watched anxiously for morning. But as the gray light began to reveal Dolly’s face, she was terrified at its ghastly whiteness, intensified by the soot and smoke which begrimed it. She tried ss<ii ipAttust Tier, but Dolly lay in a stupor,- fJw could only clasp her hands and pray for help. She crept painfully from the bed, ana was trying to drag herself to the door, when Joel rode upon horseback, with his wife behind him. She,was a stout, redcheeked young woman, ’and, springing off without waiting for help, ran to the back kitchen, where there were sounds of son* one stirring. . .t , i “ Miss Dolly splittln’ kincUln’fl, I’ll be bound I Joel’s jest that! shiftless not to think on’t. My graciqus Peter 1” ,fbf exclaimed, as She suddenly opened the door, and found herself confronted, by - one of the colts. • . i,.., • She left Joel to Settle matters wlth ikEs colts, and made her way to, Mrs. Mhrphall and Dolly, carrying the poor lady back to bed in her strong Sfetts a| If she ha^ltyi *“Don’t you worry aboutDoHjVfa she said, confidently, “she’ll sleep if off, and coine out all right, and I’ll just take off my things- and do for you. I can stop as well as not ; our house w*s inumed up, and we hist managed tosav* ourselves, so Cblf” ’ ’■ got a BmitCh “ Vour house burned 1 OH; Shiah, M

“Yes’m, it’s a kind of a pity, an4P| got fee nicest kind of a chicken pie for Tliankagivih’. We never soe fee fire till U was jest ketchin' hojt of us. and then we got cm the colt and raced it down fee gully to Dicbermap’s pond ahead of fee fire. We just: made a go of it, and set gx wrws thankful?’ And Josl he looked atmtaol says, kind o’ solemn like, ’ Yu I be!'

And so be**-?, VMS'**&&%** been burned in our bed, leastways I might, If Sarah had been all tbe time tugging at Dolly; pulling off boots and coat, her upon the pillow but Mrs. Mari shall’s terror on|y incrcaijisl at seeing Dolly remain perfectly passive,''defffr opening her eve* and 'allowing Sarah tO lift her as if snu were dead. Hour after hour she slept on, only when Sarah raised heron her vlgOrmhi man, find tod beHrtjtf chicken broth* forcing Upaticmiy lato uW, closed mouth, until at last a little color 'Crept into the pallid face and the sleep wgs .not so dcath-llke. But even at nine o’clock, when the travelers arrived, Dolly gave them a doubtful iwooMtition. ShO smiled faintlyat, the children’s kisses, stared tor an instant at her father’s anxious face, and then went on dosing and muttering. Bess stole in a»d opt bn tiptoe, the tears dropping down on her pet kitten, and Johnny blundered about with his* mouth 1 full of delicious candy hip! very heart dissolving with grief and gratitude, j i Dolly talked about the candy, and Johnny was impressed with the idea that she wanted some, and actually made an attempt to administer a small chunk, but he was not v«iy successful, and Daily kept on muttering: “The veiyiast night she was here she made them some candy; the very last night; the very last night; but they couldn’t find it; they never could find it; the fire came and burnt thfyfl all up; the vefy last night; the-iveiy-n last—night.” If there hgd been a doctor at hand, Sarah would have given! up her. patient to a course of brain fever, with proper defer, ence; but as there Was none within twenty miles she was compelled to persevere with her sensible applications of water, friction! and chicken broth, and in a couple of days she, had the satisfaction of seeing, Dolly laugh in quite a natural fashion at Joel’s story of the gray colt, which was taken from the kitchen with one foot firmly bedded in a'pan of molasses candy. “ ’Twasn’t all stepped on,’’said Johnny, “ and I saved you a chunk. I’m awful glad ypu made it, ’cause nobody ’tended to Thanksgiving very much.” ’ “ I’m glad I made ft,” feaM DoUyj rfar I should not have seen the flje.ia Umeif 1 had gone: to bed eariier. I remember something foolish about its Mifigmylast night,” and Dolly smiled doubtfully at' her mother, not feeling quite sure what she had said, and what she had only' thought. •. * “It Was not foolish at all, dear,” paid her mother, kissing the scorched lingers. ‘ ‘"Nothing better could be said of any life, than that it w*s a sacrifice for others.” • “ tjhet.yer eyes, Dolly, mid never, mind about your last days,” said Sarah, decided. !y; “ you won’t see ’em this fifty year, l if things is managed anyway .reasonable.”—, jSmilg Huntington MiUer,-in Wide Awake.