Western Reserve chronicle. [volume] (Warren, Ohio) 1855-1921, 1858-03-17

81 wish | could see the e.kind gentle
man, said the child earnestly; | would
give him my beautiful rose, if he liked
flowers"
She looked strangely beautiful that
night, her head resting on her brothers
shoulder, while Jamie fed her with the
juicy berries, one by one, as bird might
feed its young.
"Why, how bright the color of your
cheek is" cried Jamie, | believe you
have been stealing the red shadows from
your favorite rose. Mother, | am sure
Katy will get WE'LL" The next morning
while yet the golden spear of sunrise was
in rest among the purple hills, Katy
died.
The moss of twenty years had gather
ed upon Katy's head-stone-the vioIets oI
twenty years had blossomed over her
graye-and it was a glorious autumn
day, whose light streamed along the busy
thoroughfare, and shone ON The magnii-
cent marble erection devoted to the ex-
tensive operations of the celebrated Bank
of K.
A splendie carriage, cushioned with
velvet, and glittering brightly in the sun
shine, was drawn up opposite the door,
waiting to take the great banker to his
palatial home.
The spirited horses, foaming and pran.
cling, could hardly be curbed, and the
driver looked wonderingly towards the
door, and marvelled why his usually
punctual master did not come.
Mr.. Arnet stood in little office open
ing from The main bank, where the long
rows of clerks were bending over their
desks. He had been looking over little
pocket-book which he always carried
about him, for some note or bill, and as
he turned its pages, Bit of folded paper
dropped out.
The banker opened it, and although
twenty years had deadened the first edge
of his sorrow, the tears rushed 10 his eyes
as they fell on the contents. A pencil
sketch, rude and unfinished, of a meek
browed child-a lock of soft brown hair
and that perfumed dust of crimson rose
those were dearer TO The banker than
his vaults of yellow gold.
As he looked at them. tremulous voice
without arrested his ear.
81 would be glad if you would buy,
gentlemen, for my need is very great
| have a sickly daughter at home who
must be fed"
''Be off about your business" was the
sharp rejoinder. al won't let you in
Don't you see you are not wanted here?''
The voice seemed 10 strike responsive
chord in the rich mans heart; surely he
had heard its mild tones before. He par
TALLY opened the door, and called out
sternly:
"Mr. Walters, show that gentleman in,
if you please"
The abashed clerk obeyed, not with
cut surprise, and the bowed old man, with
his heavy basket of strawberries, came
humbly into the private room of the great
banker.
"Will you take chair, SIR" politely
inquired Mr.. Arnet, moving forward
luxurious famiea.
The old man took off his hat and said,
apologeiically-
"Sir, | fear that | intrude on your val
liable time. If you would buy some Of
my fruit-necessiiy, you know, is strong,
and my poverty is extreme. | was not
always in such position"
Mr.. Arnet watched the proud turn Of
that grey head with singular smile;
then sitting down to his desk lie wrote off
a check and handed it across the table.
"One thousand dollars!" faltered the
old man, as he read, turning red and
white in breath. He held it toward The
banker.
''Sir, hoped YOU were too much of a
gentleman TO mike sport of age and dis
iress. Is there anything TO jest about in
my want?"
"Not at all, sir. You spoke of sickly
daughter. have cottage vacant, just
outside the city, with fountain, grounds,
and observatory. If you and your
daughter will occupy it, rent free, shal
be very glad 10 have you take care of it
for me-
The old man stood white and breath
less, as if in dream. In an instant his
hand was taken in The clap of the great
banker.
''My friend, my benefactor. you have
forgotten me, but my youthful memory !
is stronger than yours. Is it possit .e you
have no remembrance of me?"
The old man shook his head.
"Yet it is folly to expect it when | am
so changed. Listen, sir" he resumed
With bright, earnest smile, shave you
any recollection of forlorn boy, ON a
pier, whose little oil was scatter
I'd by rude blow! Have you forgotten
his distressa Have you forgotten that
Kind stranger stopped to comfort him, moi
,nly by money, but by cheering words2"
SIS it possible?' stammered the old man.
"Yes, it is possible; am that forlorn
10Y. Your money, which that night sup
,lied my dying sister with luxuries and