Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1867-10-18
MAINE FRIDAY, OCTOBER 18, 1867

once !-'Never mind, Jack, I eau bea
anything as long as have 'yOu.'
And here he was, with his ticket boucl
bound for Colorado.
He wondered if it were ever too late in tn
day for fellow to make .. man of himself
"..nd she's a. the world to me,
And Tor bonnie Annie Laurie
Ia lay me down to die. D."
said the little fiddle etriumphan:Iv.
Harmon shook himself, and stood up. Th,
train was slackening the lights of way
station bright ahead. 1t was about tim,
for supper and his mother. so Tommy puI
down his fiddle and handed around his fad.
ed cap.
The merchant threw him penny, and
returned to his tax list. The old lady was
fast asleep, with her mouth open.
Come here growlcd Harmon, with his
eyes very bright. Tommy shrunk back,
almost afraid of him.
Come here softening ~ won't hurt
you. tell you, boy, you don't know what
you have done Tonight
Done sir 7 Tommy couldn't help laugh
ing. though there was twnge of pain Mt
hi. stOut little heart, as he fingered the soil.
tary penny in the faded cap. Done Well
about what | meant to do.
Yes. that is it, said Harmon, verv dis
tinctly. pushing up his hat; 'yeu'vd wax
ed me up. Here, hold your cap
They had puffed into the station now
and stopped. lie emptied lis purse into
the little cap. shook it clean of paper and
copper ulikc, was out of the car and off the
tram before Tommy could have said Jack
Robinson.
My eyes!' gasped Tommy. that cap
had ticket for New York sure Mcthnse-
lah Look ahcre One, two. three-must,
have been crazy; that's it, crazy
He'll never find out muttered Harmon,
turning away from the station lights. and
striking back through the night for the red
flats and home. He'll never find out what
he has done. nor please God. shall she.'
1t was late when he came in sight ofthe
house; it had been long tramp across the
track. and hard; being stung bv bitter
wind from the east all the way, tired with
the monotOnous trea1ing of the sleepers,
and with crouching in perilous inches to let
the trains go by.
She stood watching at the window, as hs
had known she would stand-her hands
raised to her face-hcr figure cut ont
against the warm light of the room.
lie stood still moment and looked at
her. hidden in the shadow of the street,
thinking his own thoughts. The publican
i'll the old story, hardly entered the bnauti-
fnl temple with more humble step than he
his home that night.
She sprang to meet him. palcr with her
and fear, and lie lelt Eer arms
about his neck.
Worried. Annie, were you! havn't
been drinking; don't be frightened no,
not the theatre, either, this time. Some
business dear-busincss that delayed me.
I've had a long walk. 1t is pleasant here
l believe | am tired, Annie
He faltercd aud turned away his face.
Dear me-, said Annie; why. you poor
fellow you are all tired out. Sit right her
BY the fire, and vii! bring thetea hayss rs
not know Jack and was 50 afraid some
.ting had happened to you.'
Her face, her voice, her touch. seemed
more than he could bear, for a minute per-
Iaps. He gul ped down his tea, choking
'Annie, look hcre.' lie put down his
mp, tryi 8 to smile and make a jest of the
words. Suppose fellow had it in him to
be rascal, aml nobody ever knew it. clil'
u should ratheI not know it, if | were
lis Wife said Annie. simply.
Jack cou shed, took up his tea cup, set it
lown hard. strobe once or twice across the
'oom. kissed the baby in the crib kissed
lis wife, and sat down again, winking at
.he fire.
Il wonder if He had anything to do with
sending him. he said, presently, undcr his
breath.
Sending whom J. asked puzzled Annie.
business, dear; just business. was
thinking of II boy who did little job for
me to might; that's ALL
And that's all she knows to this day
about the mans sitting in the corner, with
his hat over his eyes, bound for Colorado.