the night Azalia sat by his side, watching him
with sleepless eyes, fanning his pale brow. The morning sun beamed upon
her still sitting there. Those who were accustomed to watch for her
appearance in the early morning, restless with fever, beheld her as
clothed with celestial brightness, and said one to another, "There sits
our Angel of Light!"
Through the day she was there, watching the slow heavings of his heart,
holding her breath while listening to assure herself that he was still
breathing; hoping and fearing, holding her hands at times upon her own
heart to still its wild, tumultuous beating,--giving him atom by atom
the needful nourishment,--bending over him to smooth his
pillow,--opening the casement for the winds to blow upon his bloodless
cheek,--thus snatching him from the very jaws of death and winning him
back to life!
CHAPTER XXIV.
HOME.
A despatch came clicking into the telegraph office in New Hope that Paul
Parker was alive,--that he had been a prisoner at Andersonville, was
very feeble, but in a fair way to get well, and would soon be at home.
It was from Azalia. Mr. Magnet read it in amazement, then ran as fast as
he could to carry it to the little old cottage. "Good news!" he shouted,
rushing into the house out of breath, without knocking. "Paul is alive!
Paul is alive!"
"My son alive!" exclaimed Mrs. Parker, her heart leaping wildly.
"Yes; there is the despatch."
She read it in fear and trembling, her brain in a whirl. She must fly to
him! O if she only had wings! Paul alive! The old clock took up the
word, "Alive,--alive,--alive," it said. A robin perched in the great
maple sang all day, "He is coming home,--is coming home," while the
swallows from their nests under the eaves looked into the old kitchen
through the open door, twittering together, as if saying, "How glad we
are!" Never so bright the sunshine as on that morning, nor so fragrant
the flowers! All nature was glad, and rejoiced in her joy.
Mr. Magnet told the news through the village, the people listening in
wonder. Mr. Chrome threw down his paint-brush, took off his old hat,
swung it over his head, and gave three cheers. Through the day he kept
saying to himself, "That beats the Dutch!" The children ran through the
streets shouting, "Paul is alive! Paul is alive!" Father Surplice, Judge
Adams, Colonel Dare, and the neighbors--a dozen at a time--went down to
shake hands with Paul's mother, making it such a day o
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