os something beyond his power to conquer. 
But the fair face of the woman he loved, and 
hud promised to cherish and protect, was before 
him, bidding birn for her sake to faint not, or 
else ho might, have shrank from the apparent 
great undertaking. 
It. Is easy for a man with others depending on 
him for support, to do what seem improbable 
things, than for one whose self is all he has in 
the world. 
80 Walter Lindsay grew stronger and 
stronger with each day, until the work was to 
him no longer hard, but made light and easy by 
the success which came to birn with it. 
lie hud rented a neat cottage, and with his 
earnings had been Able to furnish it nicely. In 
front was a piazza, and around this Agnes had 
trained the graceful made!ra-vlne and convol¬ 
vulus. Here, at evening, they would sit und 
plan for the future. 
Ah! how useless is man’s planning. When he 
is strongest, and life seems all brightness, the 
simoon of death sweeps across his path, and 
blasts all that but u moment before ho had fan¬ 
cied himself to be. 
asked his consent that she should become his 
wile. 
For some time the old man seemed unable to 
speak, so gTCut was his emotion at the sudden¬ 
ness of this announcement. Many had told him 
what would be the end of these wild rides and 
rambles of Wai.tku Lindsay and bis child. 
But he had only laughed at. their fears, and 
jested the matter away. 
To Eguiiut Vaii, the thought of his child 
marrying one in a higher position than her own 
was not a pleasant one. There arose In his 
mind the vision of u lime when her mother and 
himself should want to visit her, and she in her 
elegant home and among her husband's friends, 
arrayed in robes of silken sheen, would blush 
and l'eel ashamed of them in their simple garbs 
of homespun. 
At last he spoke. “It seems to me, young 
man, that lids Is no trilling matter,” he said. 
“11 my daughter had been of tho same poelal 
position as yourself, I should not have hesitated 
for a single moment with my answer. She 
should be your wife. But as the matter stands, 
I would rather you would wait until the end of 
a year before you plight your troth.” 
Of course, neither of the twain would listen to 
this proposition, and thus it was, somewhat in 
anger at their decided refusal, that. Mohkkt 
Vaii. forbade iltelr marriage, and ordered 
Walter Lindsay from thohonsc. 
In anger only; for when the next mom’s 
rising sun shone warmly into the old man’s 
chamber, tie awoke,, repentant of his rashness of 
yesterday, and resoived to bid those two loving 
ones God-speed on their journey through life. 
But when tie came out from his room and down 
to where his family were wont to gather for 
prayer, ho found that in the night Walter 
Lindsay and Agnes "Vail had gone out into 
the world, and without his blessing. 
SUNSHINE AND SHADOW; 
OR, AGNES LINDSAY’S TRIAL 
BY BE FOREST V. GTJMMER80N. 
Five years liave nearly passed since Walter 
Lindsay and his fair young wife came to dwell 
in Glendale. 
In that time the cottage which at first they 
had rented, had become their own. They had 
one child, a lovely Httls bud of future woman¬ 
hood on which both parents doled. Walter 
Lindsay had, by careful attention to the duties 1 
that were liis, risen from the position which he 
had at first accepted, and now was foreman. 
11 was a lovely morning in early Spring. FIc 
and his wife wore standing upon the piazza en¬ 
joying the wealth of golden sunshine that lay 
everywhere about, them. The tiny croons 
peered forth from Its Winter bed, moved by 
the soft warmth of Its rays, and opened its 
beauteous eyes upon the new life that for a 
brief season it was to enjoy. 
Not unlike the life of man is that of the cro¬ 
cus. It comes into life la the fullness of a great 
beauty. While yet Its blossoms seem brightest, 
a passing storm sweeps them to the ground und 
it Is gone.. But whon the Spring-lime of the 
year shall come again, U will bud and blossom 
Into a new beauty, like the soul of man cut 
down in his pride and strength, and laid in the 
grave, will rise again to dwell forever in the 
Master's kingdom. 
This loveliest of mornings, Walter Lindsay 
lingered longer than usual by the side of his 
wife. Was it because some inward prompting 
bade him enjoy that which was hia, as though 
it was the last time he should see her in this 
world? I know not. But when he turned and 
traced his steps down the walk und through the 
gate, out into the long road that led to the shop, 
his eyes had looked for the last, time Into those 
of the woman he loved. 
If no could l‘nrr*oe events, liow much of the 
misery that most of ns have to endure might be 
spared? If. on Ibis particular morning. Fad 
ter Lindsay could have seen the grim moil- 
ster, Death! as be strode in and about the shop, 
he might Imve remained at home, and then 
there would have been no broken-hearted 
woman ami fatherless child in the cottage on 
which the sun shone so lovingly this morning. 
It was tola* a busy day at the shop- They had 
completed a huge engine, which was to be that 
day shipped to some place in the South. All 
hands were required to assist at. this work, as 
well as «n additional supply of men from a 
neighboring shop. It was about noon when 
they had got the pulleys adjusted, and were 
ready 1o raise the ponderous mass into a posi¬ 
tion from which it might be placed upon the car 
that was to carry it to the vessel. 
When it was anont four feet high it was found 
necessary to remove some of the attachments so 
that it could be swung around that it might be 
got endways on the «or. To do this it was 
necessary that two or three men should go under 
the huge moss. Walter Lindsay was one of 
these. The breslung of a rope was the chosen 
the grandeur of his parental home that ho chose 
the plainest and simplest of the farm-houses 
for Ills abode. 1 do not know, hut that he did, 
much to the wonderment of those who lived in 
more pretentious homos, is certain. 
Old farmer VAIL was the owner of 1 he home 
in which Walter Lindsay had chosen, for 
the time, to become one of its members. 
Farmer Vail had but his wife and the chil¬ 
dren, so there was room enough for even so 
grand a stranger as Walter Lindsay. 
Uis wife bad been an invalid lor some years, 
and was unable to do much of the work, and 
that which she did was of the lightest kind, so 
that tho harder part fell upon the farmer’s fail- 
haired daughter. 
Agnes Vail possessed no small amount of 
beauty, and that of no ordinary kind. She had 
hair of t hat Indescribable color which the sun 
gives to the heavens at the last moment before 
it sinks behind the hills. Eyes of as bright a 
blue as the Myosotls, and which once seen said 
quite as plainly as.that flower, “Forget me 
not.” 
Her hands were small and beautifully formed, 
with tho most taper of Ungers. To be sure, 
they bore the unmistakable marks of hard 
work; but she always took a certain delight in 
showing them, and indeed once said, “that il 
she had any pride it was in her hands,” and 
called them her “pride marks.” 
One accomplishment of this girl’s 1 must not 
forget to mention, her “ liorsowoimaushIp." As 
this is an age in which women are determined 
to have every right that belongs to them, 1 shall 
readily be pardoned for calling things by the 
right'name; why, r verily believe the girl 
could, and would undertake to break any colt 
that was ever foaled. 
Once, I remember, when her father had spent 
nearly four days In trying to catch a wild fel¬ 
low that had been turned out in the meadow, 
seeing her come up in front of Iho door seated 
on the colt’s back with only a halter to guide 
him, and halloa lustily that “she’d conquered 
him.” 
And conquered him s-he had, and from that 
hour the colt was as virtually hor’s, as though 
She had counted out the gold into her father’s 
hand, and received a receipt in full. 
She named him “ Wildfire and I have heard 
people sav, the handsomest sight to be seen in 
CHAPTER II. 
When Walter Lindsay had asked Agnes 
Vail to be his wife, be could not have foreseen 
the manner in which his parents would receive 
the news of his marriage, else he would have 
hesitated long ere he took so decided a step to¬ 
wards ita consummation. To him life was all 
brightness. He had always had his own way 
and he could not have been made to believe that 
when he took any woman as his wife to his 
father’s home that the doors would be closed 
against him. 
Somehow old Mr. Lindsay had heard of bis 
son’s marriage two days before that son entire in 
person, to apprise him of It, and present Ills 
lair-bait ed bride to him. And in those two days 
he had nursed his anger to such an extent as to 
make it something really terrible. 
In vain did his wile attempt to soften down 
Ills wrath. In vain did she shed tears, and plead 
that he would forgive their boy, for the sake of 
tho old time when his childish ways and prattle 
upon his family name. “NoI no! no! 1 can 
never forgive him. Never! never! never!” 
And t he old man was true to his word, for 
when Walter Lindsay rung the boll at bis 
father’s home, the servant came from the base¬ 
ment door and handed him a note which he 
hastily opened and read. When he had finished, 
he east one withering look of scorn back upon 
hts father’s house, then turned to his fair young 
wife and took iter arm wit bin his own, saying as 
“ The world lies all before us, my be¬ 
lie did so, 
loved, and m.v love for you is strong enough to 
brave even death, 1 have no longer a home, 
save that which I shall in the future earn." 
I think it was well for Agnes Lindsay in that 
hour that she was brave, and loved the man she 
had married. Most women would have fainted 
by the way. But she did not; she only looked 
her husband in the face, and said“ Whither¬ 
soever thou loti Jest me, will 1 follow, even to 
the end of the world.” 
Days and days ot wandering passed ere these 
two ioving ones found an abiding place. Try 
as hard as he would, it was no easy matter for 
a man to find work, for a man who never had 
known how to work. In vain did be plead a 
willingness to learn, and dire necessity as a rea¬ 
son why he should begiven employment. Sound 
a.- was his logic, there were men who fancied 
themselves better logicians than he, and it was 
to such as these to whom he apuliod. 
But one day when the great black cloud of 
despair had nearly wrapt its folds about him. 
there came a soft glimmer of light about its 
outer edge, that bade him hope on. 
A man had promised that on the morrow he 
would give him a trial, and if he should suit, 
permanent employment. 
Ob ! the plans that were formed on this prom¬ 
ise. A possible home of their own in the future, 
in which they should bo as happy as the birds 
in Spring. 
And it is well for us poor mortals that the 
sorrows,like sharp rocks, 11c all along our path¬ 
way, are hidden from sight, else might we, 
bruised and blinded by them, fall too easily by 
the way. They who build castles in the air are 
happy for a tim«, if their creations do crumble 
easily, and fall into pieces when they would in¬ 
habit them. 
The morrow came, and Walter Lindsay pre¬ 
sented himself bright and early at tho shop. 
Tho work that ho was to do certainly loomed up 
in the patera. Some friend of Agnes Lindsay 
saw it and brought it to her. Of course, it was 
an easv matter to establish her claim; and early 
In the Autumn after eld Mr. Lindsay died, 
Agnes Ijndsay took her father and her child to 
her new home. 
Time In its onward march makes many 
changes. Since then old Mr. Vatl has died. 
Ethel Lindsay has married, and reigns as 
mistress in the mansion in which her lather was 
born; a bcauriful woman among beautiful 
WOTlCUt 
But, great as is the beauty of Ethel, there is 
another and lovelier presence than hers. A 
grand old woman with locks of silver whiteness 
and whose face wears that serene look that 
comes only to those who, having passed through 
deep affliction, anchor their hope at last, on the 
loving kindness of Hie Father who givct.n His 
beloved rest.. . . . . . 
Agnes Lindsay, once heart - broken, is the 
grand old woman we have seen. On this side of 
the river she is only waiting uow until the boat- 
But she had heard that he was willing to receive- 
her back again. It was no hardship for her to 
return, now that all that had made It w life hap¬ 
py away from borne was gone. As to forgive¬ 
ness. I do not believe she ever thought she had 
need of any; nor do 1. 
It is a dangerous thing for even a parent to 
step between two souls that have learned to 
love, and attempt to rob them of their birth¬ 
right, If t here. Is ever one who needs forgive¬ 
ness, It Is the one who, by opposing that which 
is as natural to the human as to die, drives tho 
white-w inged tdrd of love away from where it 
would gladly have rested to seek another and 
more peace fill abiding place. ... 
Agnes Lindsay lelt this in her soul. “I have 
done no wrong,” sue said. *• I only acted up to 
my sense of duty. Now that my duty in the 
direction of my husband is done, I will go back 
CHAPTER III. 
Agnes Lindsay arrived at the hotel in Froud- 
weli, just as the sun was going do-wn behind the 
hills, about one month after the death of her 
husband. From the hotel to the home of her 
childhood the distanoo was about one mile. 
After all the debts had been paid, her hua- 
