The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1865-06-21

us AIRES every year, auu ulodueuluS IoOI
by his cold, selfish, unproductive life the
gulf between him and the kingdom of
Heaven.
One day in the late spring, however,
an old man and little, golden-haired
child stopped at our house aud asked for
Aunt Esther Lee. Then for the first
time in all these years we heard from
Joseph Pike.
Life had been with him no "dance Of
roses," but long sharp struggle. He
had married young, and his children died
young, and his wife had been laid beside
them, leaving him only the golden haired
boy that stood before ua.
Joseph Inherited the delicate coustitu-
ton of his mother, and his health failed
under all these trials. He had wandered
from place to place in search Of strength
But he had failed rapidly, and at last
himself gave up all hope of recovery.
Then he wrote to my aunt, the mother
of his boyhood, as he called her, and be-
queathed to her tenderness his only
child, not four years old. And the old
man who brought him to US, was one
whom Joseph had once rescued from
drowning, aud who remained with him
out Of gratitude to the last hour Of his
life.
Aunt Esther bowed her head above
those golden curls, and said, while the
tears dropped on the bright face that
was SO like its ifather's-"TlI take the
child"
Il have made Up my mind, y said Aunt
Esther suddenly, one day just after din
ner, as she folded up her knitting, and
looked of moment on the dusty road
that wound like dingy red ribbon thro
the pastures of Woodsde.
"Whas have you made up your mind
to do, Aunty.' y asked Cousin Alice Lake
and / simultaneously, as We looked up
from the magazines we were reading.
"That I'll take Weston, Joseph's child,
and 90 straight over to Farmer Pixies
this afternoon. He viii be just about
over his dinner nap when we get there.
It's very well for him to talk as he does,
SO long as he don't see the child, but
come to that, l believe twill be more
than he can can well bear"
We believed it too, when We saw the
beautiful little creature waddling out Of
the gate By auntys side, although when
the neishbors had informed Farmer Pike
that Joseph was dead and he had be-
queathed bis only child to my aunt, he
sternly replied-"Let her keep him then.
As for me, I'll never have anything to
do with him"
Il was not to be wondered at that
Alice and awaited cur aunts return
with eager curiosity, or that the Inquiries
with which my story commences, greeted
her entrance. She did not reply at once,
but took up palm leaf fan that lay on
the table, seated herself in the arm chair,
while her features worked painfully.
Il never bad anything come across me
SC" che exclaimed, more to herself than
to as. And then the tears rolled down
her cheeks, After awhile she grew
calmer aud told her story to Cousin
Alice and me, sitting in her large rocking
chair, tanning herself With her favorite
palm leaf fan.
"You see Farmer Pike had just risen
from bis afternoon nap, and was going
out the back door as | got around by the
meadow front of the house. I spied him
and hurried round there as he got up to
the we'll"
Glow dye DC. Farmer Pike" said,
in free, neighborly way, as I came up
to him, cant you let this child have a
drink Of water? he's bad long walk, and
he's got pretty nigh tuckered out"
"The old man was completely taken
ahack, [ could see By the way he looked
at me, and [ looked back ct him as cool
and innocent as a lamb Then he glanc-
ed at Weston and I saw the muscles
about his tight mouth culver a little. but
he didn't say a word he took UP the tin
cup that stood on the spout and filed it
from the bucket, and held it out to me.
but his great hand shook so the water
spilled over the top, but of course did
not notice that; l KEPT on talking in the
most natural way imaginable about the
weather and the good crops we are likely
to have"
"Now, say thank you, grandpa" I said,
as | flung out the water after Weston had
done drinking
Thank you, grandpa" came out in
the soft, small notes of the child, and
knew they went way down into the old
mans heart like sharp cutting sword.
"Who is that ar child p he asked, in
a grutf voice, as if be didn't dare trust Ii
to speak louder.
We'll, now, Farmer Pike" says I,
"to hear you ask that question. If you
cant tell the color of them eyes, you
must be struck stone blind. and did Won