Sunbury American. [volume] (Sunbury, Pa.) 1848-1879, 1874-11-20

1Ee.
the business with uoskins, Cyrus came
leisureIy from the office of the latter, up
Broadway. 1t was full Of holiday seekers,
many of the stores being closed and the
clerks and salCswOmen in their best attire
going To family gatherings. Cyrus was
thinking OF the day four years ago, when
he came hiendless and lonely 10 the great
city; when. just before him. Girl hurryiuy
past VII Ii Il large bundle slipped upon the
frozen pavement, and fell heavily to the
groGId. lu Il moment Cyrus was bending
over her, beiping her to IIse : but her an
kle Bas spraDed, and she would have iii-
leu again but for his arm.
Il am afraid you cannot walk he said,
kindly, noting with deep pity her thin gar
ments, her pinched features, and the look
of pain upon her face.
L must try she answered, stopping to
secure the big bundle.
| Lean upon me- he said, taking the bur.
den from her. You cannot he said, as
the effort to put the injured foot down
brought an ashy paleness to her very lips.
| i will call cab'
! No, no | have no money!
| Again the deathly pallor gathered on
cheek and lips, till Cyrus lifted her gently
| into the cab that came at his call.
| Where shall take you y he asked.
/ To No., Pearl Street
| Directing the cabman, Cyrus got into
the cab, with face almost as pale as the
one beside him. The number was the
| same his friend had mentioned as the ad-
dress of Simon Clayton's daughter, and,
| looking attentiyely under the shabby bon
net, Cyrus saw that the face, pale and thin,
| was yet that Of child of not more than
| thirteen summers When the cab stopped
| before the tall, narrow tenement house, the
young man lifted his charge III his strong
arms, and, bidding her hold fast to the big
| bundle, carried her to the room 10 which
she directed him.
| 1t was a poor room, shabby to the ex-
treme Of shabbiness, with no romantic air
of poverty, but the real grinding facts of
extreme penury staring the beholder in the
face. y woman, pale and emaciated, was
stitching upon a sewing machine, but came
forward trembling when Cyrus entered
with the child.
DO not be frightened: he said, gently
1T is only sprained ankle. | will send
you a doctor, if you will tell ME for whom
he is to inquire
Mrs. Cameron. o Dollie, child are
you very much hurt p
My foot aches,' the child said but the
gentleman has been so kind The work is
here, mother
+ L will send doctor, Cyrus said, hast
lily putting the child upon the bed f; he
had better come at once
As he spoke, he slipped a note for fifty
dollars into Dollie Cameron's hand, and
left the room before she could speak. 1t
was too bitter. He could not realize it at
once, but the cruel truth pressed harder
and harder as he neared home. This was
the child and grandchild of Simon Clayton,
starving in an attic, while he commanded
their rightful inheritance.
Mrs. Grey met him at the door, with a
pale, frightened face. There had been a
sudden change for the worse since he had
left, and Simon Clayton was sinking fast.
Hurrying to the room, Cyrus found the
news OILY too true. Eagerly the dying
man welcomed him. He had forgotten all
business cares, but he craved the love of
his adopted son.
1t is Thanksgiving Day. he said, when.
they had talked little while, the day for
the forgiveness Of injuries. Cyrus, would
| knew where Laura is to-day. l have
destroyed all letters from her, lost all clue
to her. She may be poor, Cyrus. She
may long for her fathers forgiveness. My
poor Laura had never crossed her, Cy-
rus, and she did not think | would be un-
fOrgiving. ! could die easier if 1 could tell
her that l forgive her.
Cyrus did not speak. Literally he could
not. All that those few gasping words
implied pressed upon his brain with relent-
L. IL I
given, meant the loss of all the fair inheri-
tance now his own. Do not judge him too
hardly, that fierce temptation clutched
heart and brain. There was no active
crime to be committed. Only few hours
silence, and the vast wealth which he had
virtually controlled for a few short weeks
would be all his own. He could provide
handsomely for the widow and her child
when he was the heir (; and he was surely
better fitted to manage n great estate than
weak woman.
Simon Clayton did not notice the silence
that fell upon the room while Cyrus wrest-
led with the bitter temptation in his heart.
He was very weak, and time was short for
PRAYER and preparation for eternity, so the
silence suited him well. But when the
very sound of his breathing was audible in
the stiffness, he sighed, as if from break
ing heart, My poor Laural'
Like clouds dispersed by sunlight, the
shadows of evil sped from Cyrus FOrd's
heart.
Uncle Simon he said, Il can bring
Laura TO you, if you wish
The dying man expressed no surprise.
The end was too near for that. Ii seemed
nothing strange to him that his strong dy-
ing wish should be answered
You can find her! Bring her quickly,
Cyrus, or you will be too late. But before
you go. give me my desk, and send Mrs.
Grey to me-
Shall open your desk?'
Yes | only want my will. She is my
-hilG, Cyrus, he said, pleadingly.
And if this is destroyed, she will have
her rightful inheritance said Cyrus.
Shall lay it here on the live Goals p
Yes. God will give me an hour or two
more of life. Burn it, Cyrus, and send at
once for Mr.. Pearson
SO, while the flames curled over the paper
that would have made him master Ofnearlv
a million dollars, Cyrus Ford started to
bring Laura Cameron 20 her father, and
sent his lawyer to the dying man. But few
words sufficed to explain his errand. Dol
lie was carefully carried to the easy car
riage in waiting, and after a long drive the
stately house was reached when twilight
was settling over ths great city.
1t was thoroughly in keeping with the
delicate instincts of Cyrus FOrd's character
that he sent Laura aiGue to her father.
while he carried DOllic into the parlOr, and
made her comfortable upon a sofa. The
grave, pale child looked earnestly in his
face.
DO you live here withmy grandfather ?
she asked.
Il have lived here for four years. l ate !.
my first meal here on Thanksgiving Day
four years ago.
Thanksgiving Day We meant to make
a little holiday, too but l was not paid
for the work took home, and | hurt my,
foot | was not in very thankful frame
of mind before | met you, and you were so
kind and so generous =
Il hope this will be the first of many
thankful days for you,' he answered.
Your mother will not leave her home
again, | trust?'
There was still long talk before they
were summoned to the sick room. Here