The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1854-07-05
John drew back abashed, and the mus
II r

John drew back abashed, and the mus-
cles of his face worked.
"The past is past" said he in low
tone; but that was all that he said.
"Be il so, John," said Mr.. Lindsey, af.
ter a pause. "Most unreservedly, do i
trus; you; most unreservedly do commit
my child to your care"
"I1l watch over him as will watch
over little Tom," replied John, in a husky
voice, 81 ,oill. so help me God!''
sits well,' said Mr.. Lindsey, sinking
back in his chair, "and thank you"
John stood awhile, as if expecting him
to say more, but Mr.. Lindsey seemed ex-
hausted by the effort he had already made.
| 81 think I'll go, sir" said he, when he
| was fully satisfied that the old man had
said all that he desired. "Tom's not well
and may be wanted"
"Well, goodnight, John. | have already
exerted myself too much. Goodnight,
but remember. rely on you," said Mr..
Lindsey, feebly.
"You may, sir" replied John; and bow.
| ing to Mr.. Lindsey, he went out and left
the House.
John paused as he stepped out into the
open air, and surveyed the massive build
ing. How dark and dreary it seemed!-
and there was sad sound signing through
the old trees which overhung it, that seem.
ed to predict sorrow.
"The good are going," muttered he. re-
peating the words which he had used in
his shop, "God help those who are leit!"
John Biggs was not man TO yield to
idle fancies. He had been dragged
through the rough paths of life, and had
batled his way against stern and stubborn
realities: but an overpowering sense oi
sadness stole over him. In vain he tried
to shake it off, and TO struggle against it.
He thought thst it might be caused by the
chill air Of the night. He buitoned his
coat more closely about him and walked
rapidly on: but il grew darker and darker
as he went; and dark and more gloomy
the dreary feeling gathered about his heart.
Everything seemed to grow cold and cheer
less; the dim trees stretching out their grea,
branches between him and the sky, seem
ed so many shadowy sPectres throwing q
pail over his pathway.
"God grant that this foreboding may
mean nothing!" said John, as he hurried
on. "God protect my little boy! my heart
is very heavy"
The distance to his house was about two
miles, but he walked SO rapidly that he
soon reached his own door.
What was it that whispered its forebo
dings in his ear? What was the strange
wailing cry that reached him? There was
a stir in the inner room as he entered, 9
quick step and the nurse with blanched
face hurried out.
| sJohn's heart died within him. He Ut
tered not word, but crossed the outer
room, and went straight to the bed where
his child lay. A fearful change had come
over the boy since they had parted; his
features had become pinched and sharp;
his eyes were partly closed; and his
breathing was slow and heavy.
"How is it with thee, my own little
Tom," cried John Biggs, taking the tiny
wasted hand in his, while he bent over the
boy.
The child clasped his fingers around
those Of his father, and raised his dark
eyes to his face; but oh! their patient
cheerful look was gone, and they were fix.
ed upon him with long, searching and
unfathonabl gaze, his breath was growing
more and more faint: and the pulse in thai
little hand was becoming more and more
slow; and the grasp Of those small fingers
were more feeble; and gradually those
eyes grew dim, as ii a shadow were falling
upon them.
"Tom, my own dear little Tom. speak
to me-" said the old man, in low, trem.
ulous tone, kneeling at his bedside.
Eveni in the struggle with the Great
Enemy. the words reached the heart Of the
child. His eyes opened, and rested with
a something Of their old expression upon
his fathers face; there was an effort 10
speak. but no words followed. He was
too young to fear the terrors Of the Dark
Valley, but not too young to love those
who had cherished him on earth.
"Tom! Tom! my dear, dear, little child.
but one word-to say that you loved me
to the lastl''
Once more that old, look Of patience and
of love-but no words. He bent his face
forward until his lips pressed the hard
hand which clasped his; then his head fell
back and the tiny fingers relaxed their
hold.
John leaned over him, but the breath had
stopped. and the heart had ceased to beat.
He clasped the little wasted form in his
arms and burying his face in the bosom
Of his child, bitter sobs burst from him.
Ay, weep en-, John Biggs; for never
more may thy brawny arms shelter thy boy,
or thy CHEEKY voice call bright smile up
on his face. To him. earth, and joy, and
sorrow are past. With a fathers fondness,
and more than fathers devoiion,7 hast
thou followed him to the borders Of the
Dark Sea, but solitary and alone has he
launched his bark upon the silent ocean
which leads to the Unknown Land.
AIM HIGH, BoYs-but remember the top
of the ladder is not to be reached by one
mighty jump, some day. after you are
men. The path of the hill Of science be-
gins, Just where you now are-in your