The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1867-10-02

YOU don't care to stay, after you get there,
Just get back here, and I'll help you to
some sort of honest work"
A deep flush of emotions overapread
John Holbrook's face, and his voice was
husky as he answered.
"Ill pay yeu, sir, if 1 live, forthe money
and the clothes; but never can pay you
for being my friend when I thought s'o0o
all alone in the world"
The next afternoon John HolorooK got
out of the stage, at the Eastport Inn, ana
went along the highway with throbbing
nulses toward his old home He stopped
inst in front of the garden, and looked in
between the tree boughs. Were strangers
there or did his own live there still? For
. moment he half expected to see little
toddling four years old feet trotting
through the grass-edged paths. Then he
remembered that little Jenny must be
eleven now. Would he know her if he
should see her? He should know her
mother, at any rate. Eternity itself
kcouldn't change Jane SO that he would
not know her.
While he looked young girl came out
into the garden, and sat down by the old
moss-grown well. Was it his child, or a
stranger? He watched her closely. She
seemed to be in bitter grief Soon she
lifted up her sad eyes, and he saw her mo-
theirs looks in her face. AS he watched,
she grew dearer every moment. He be-
gan to feel the full tide of fathers love
throbbing in his heart, and to wonder how
it was he had lived in the same world with
her hitherto, and never understood how
dear she might be to him. Would she
ever be anything to him now? Did she
know, even, that he was in the world !?
But, if she did, doubtless Jane had taught
her to hate him. He must know. He
pulled the boughs to one side, and spoke
to her:
81 am tired. May I come in for a drink
of water from your we'll, and little rest? !?
aCertainly," she answered, with quick
courtesy, moving to open the gate for
him.
So he went in, stranger in the old
scenes, and sat down by the we'll. The
girl, his girl, offered him drink of the
cool clear water, the taste of which he re-
membered SO we'll; and then she sat down
again and buried her face in her hands,
seeming to forget that be was there. After
little while she got up to go.
"Are you in trouble ?" something moved
him to ask her.
She evidently had no distrust of him,
stranger though he was. The quiet of her
life had spared her that lesson.
eyes," she answered, Gin very sad
trouble, indeed. My mother is very sick.
She has not known me at all, to-day; and
they think she will not live till morning.
DR.. Green made me come out here, be-
cause he said l looked SO tired"
Jane going to die! His Jane! He
struggled momont for the mastery over
himself before he asked his next question.
aIsn't your father there?'
"No, sir"
els he dead?'
To save his life he could hardly have
helped asking this. She was his-he had
right to know whether she understood
or cared about his fate. Lie was not pre-
pared for the white pain that crept into
her young, wistful face.
go, l wish knew, 1 wish 1 knew" she
cried, with passionate voice and gesture
"Don't you know? ?" he asked, not even
fpity for her pain strong enough orestrain
him.
She shook her head mournfully.
81 just remember, long ago, some one for
whose coming my mother used to watch
and wait, with me in her arms. think it
must have been my father, but that was
years ago, and have never seen him in
all the time since. If ever / ask about
him mother only says, Child, that is some
thing never to be talked about between
us'-but her face grows so set and stern it
makes me cold"
"May I go in and see your mother?"
He tried to keep his tones calm as he ask
ed the question: 81 used to live in this
place once. Perhaps l knew her. She
may be an old friend of mine.''
81 wonder if she is?' the girl said
eagerly, frightening up for the moment
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