Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1867-10-05

Harmon shook himself, and stood up.
The train was slackening; the lights Of
way station bright ahead. 1t was
about time for supper and bis mother, 50
Tommy put down his fiddle and handed
around his faded cap.
The merchant threw him n penny,
and returned TO his tax list. The old Ia
dy was fast asleep with her mouth open.
Come here" growled Harmon, with
his eyes very bright. Tommy shrank
back, almost afraid of him.
Come here" softening; 81 won't
hurt you. ] tell you, toy, you don't
know what you've done to night"
Done, sir 2" Tommy couldn't help
laughing. though there was a twinge of
pain at his stout little heart, as he fin
gered the solitary penny in the faded
cap. Done Well, guess I've walked
you up, sir, which was about what l
meant to do"
"Yes, that is it." said Harmon, very
distinctly, pushing up his hat; you've
walked me up. Here, hold your cap"
They had paffsd into the station now.
and stopped. lie emptied lis purse in
to the little cap, shook it clear of paper
and copper alike, was out of the car and
off th ) train before Tommy could have
said Jack Robinson.
"My eyes g. gasped Tommy, "that
cap had ticket for New York. sure =
Methuselah Look here ! One, two,
three must have been crazy; that's it,
crazy"
Hell nevel find out" muttered Har-
mon, turning away from the station
lights, and striking back through the
night for the red flats and home. "He'lf
never find out what he has done, nor,
please God, shall She"
1t was late when he came in sight Of
the house; it had been a long tramp
across the tracks, and hard; being stung
by a bitter wind from the east all the
way, tired with the monotonors treading
Of the sleepers. and with crouching in
perilous inches to let the trains 90 by.
She stood watching at the window, as
he had known that she would stand -
her hands raised to her face--her figure
cut cut against the warm light of the
room.
He stood still moment and looked ut
her, hidden in the shadow of the street.
thinking his own thoughts. The publ
can, in the old story, hardly entered the
beautiful temple with more humble step
thnn he his home that night.
She sprang to meet him, paIer with
her watching and fear, and he felt her
arms about his neck.
worried, Annie, were you" /.
haven't been drinking; don't be fright.
ened--no, not TO the theatre, either, this
time. Some business, dear--business
that delayed me. I'm sorry you were
worried, l am, Annie. I've had long
walk. 1t is pleasant here. ] believe
am tired, Annie.
lie faltered and turned away his
face.
"Dear me-" said Annie; "why, you
poor fellow, on are all tired out. Sit
right up here by the fire, and [ will
bring the tea. I've tried so hard not to
let it boil away, you don't know, Jack;
and | was so afraid something had hap
pened to you"
Her face, her voice, her touch, seemed
more than he could bear for a minute
perhaps. He gulped down his tea, cho-
king.
fannie, look herep He put down
his cup, trying to smile, and make a Jest
of the words. A" Suppose a fellow had
it in him to be rascal, and nobody ever
knew it, ell!
=" / should rather not know it, if !
were his wife," said Annie, simply.
Jack cnughed, took up his tea cup, sat
il down hard, strobe once or twice across
the room, kissed the baby in the CRIB,
kissed his wife, and sat down again,
winking at the fire.
81 wonder if He had anything TO do
with sending him." lie said, presently
under his breath.
Sending whom r. asked Luzzled
Annie.
Business, dear; Just business. Twas
thinking of boy who did little job
for me to night; that's ALL"
And that is all that she knows TO this
day about the man sitting in the corner.
with his hat over his eyes, bound for
Colorado.