48 J. COLE.

CHAPTER IV.

AnD now I must confess to those — for
surely there will be a few—who have felt
a little interest, so far, in the fortunes of J.
Cole, that a. period in my story has arrived
when I would fain lay down my pen, and
not awaken the sleeping past, to recall the
sad trouble that befell him.

I am almost an old woman now, and all
this happened many years ago, when my hair
was golden instead of silver. I was younger
in those days, and now am peacefully and
hopefully waiting God’s good time for my
summons. Troubles have been my lot, many
and hard to bear. Loss of husband, children,
dear, good friends, many by death, and some
troubles harder even than those, the loss of
trust, and bitter awakening to the ingratitude
and worthlessness of those in whom I have
trusted, —all these I have endured. Yet time
and trouble have not sufficiently hardened