Middletown transcript., 1874-07-04

would not take it, and he gave it to the
Gregg boys. 1t was Eve dollars. And,
after that, | did wrong; for we went off
together on a jolification, sir, and that's
the truth You believe me, mamma You
do too, father, OH say you do! Let me
bring Gregg. He'll tell you it is so "
"No doubt" said the clergyman. "Nev-
ertheless, do not believe you. l will
leave you here until this evening. When
| return you must confess or suffer pun
ishment Hester, come with me-"
"Oh, Alfredv' sobbed the mother,
tdon't be SO unjust don't doubt our poor
boy! Can't you see it's true? Ned, dar-
ling, l know it is"
But the strong hand of the clergyman
drew his wife from the room, and turned
the key upon the boy, who stood staring
after them with despair in his great black
eyes.
In his heart Mr.. Holbrook felt assured
that his hoy was both thief and liar.
But the mother knew better The poor,
loving, broken-hearted mother, who wept
and prayed together, and felt that at last,
indeed, God had deserted her.
The day passed on. The untasted din
ner was served and sent away again. The
evening lamps were lighted. The clergy
man arose from his chair and went toward
an old fashioned chimney closet, and took
from thence riding. whip. The mother
gave scream, and flew towards him, and
clung to his arm. He put her aside and
passed out of the room, and stood for a
few moments alone in the study.
The boy had been weeping. He lifted
his swollen eyes to his fathers face, and
spoke:
Father, I don't mind hogging -
That's not it. | deserve one for playing
truant, perhaps; but tell me you know |
am not thief, and then | won't care how
hard the blows are Tell me that, father"
"You will not confess, then 2" replied
the clergyman.
81 did not steal the money" said the
boy.
"God hears you," said MIR. Holbrook
II know it," said Edward.
Edward" said Mr.. Holbrook, II am
strong man. You are not able to bear
the whipping I will give you. 1t will
come to confession at last. Spare us
both"
For answer the boy cast off his jacket
"Go on" he said, I'm ready You
can whip me to death, if you like. FL
never call myself thief"
1t sounded like defiance, and the first
blow fell. With the first blow all the evil
passions that lay dormant in either breast
awoke The violent obstinacy of the boy,
his unfinching reception of the blows made
the father furious, every stroke drove the
good angels farther from the boy.
Suddenly a food Of rage, that passes all
description, filled his young heart, and an
oath burst from his lips. Following that
oath came such blow as no Christian ev-
er gave an manageable horse, blow
with the dubbed handle Of the whip, and
he fell to the ground like one dead
The father bent over him for a moment
and then opened the door The mother,
trembling aud sobbing, rushed in. The
old servant woman followed.
The clergyman sick at heart, staggered
into the parlor; he sat down in the great
Turkish chair, and looked vaeantly at the
figure of his little girl busy at the table.
She had brought into the parlor little
box which she had called her baby house;
and unconscious Of what had been taking
place in the study, was furnishing it to
her hearts content.
Now it was ready for the reception of
the doll, and she put out her little hand
and plucked her fathers sleeve.
"Papa," she said, "thee my houthe"
The father absently nodded, but the
child was not satisfied.
Look" she said, "its got bed and
pillows, table and thove, and piekshure.
Look at my pickshure, papa"
Absently STILL the clergyman gazed in
to the playhouse. In moment more
an awful look swept over his face.
Your pieturc." he cried. us that
what you call your picture? Where did
you get it p
"Off the table," said the child. My
pretty green piekshure? | hung it up
with pin
1t was five dollar bill that was pinned
against the wall of the dolls parlor. 1t
was the bill that had been lost that morn
ing. Lilly, in her ignorance, thought of
/
had anything else given to her, and her
passion for pictures was great. Innocent
ly she had taken this pretty green one for
her own.
People sometimes ask why the Rev.
Mr.. Holbrook, who was SO useful in his
congregation, breaches no longer, and
lives in lonely little country place apart
from all who ever knew or admired him.
One woman knew--his sad yet fsrgiv-
ing wife. AS for the poor idiot who
crawls about the house, pitiful object to
look upon, more pitiful ono to listen to,
he knows nothing. He has never known
anything since that fatal blow, of which
the father dreams perpetually, ended all
for him.
Josh Billings says: ''Tho live man is
like little pig; he IL weaned young and
/ ba,.;c, - ,ona na,1,, IN bo ,anna.