The Bloomfield times. [volume] (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, 1874-05-26

TO 1amlllarlUy.
"But am not poetical-"
"Though you do write poetry !"
"Who told you that, Mr.. James,"
GAS if l should not recognize your
printed thoughts at once-a lawyer is not
necessarily quite MOLE"
The youth colored again at this discovery
of his carefully treasured secret-there is
nothing in life more painfully sweet than
the poets first consciousness that those
about him have recognized his gift.
81 didn't know you ever read Magazines
OF light literature of any kind"
"See, you have betrayed yourself at
once-you will make poor lawyer, sir,
if you are so easily thrown off your guard"
GA lawyer Why I'd rather be doctor,
Mr.. James, and-begging your pardon-a
tinker sooner than either"
"You would doubtless find even that
more profitable avocation than verse-mak-
ing, my young friend"
William Sears was silent again-his face
took a worn, troubled look, which made
him appear much older than before-his
lips grew tremulous, and his eyes gathered
a misty sadness, half eager, half despond-
ing. Mr.. James was apparently occupied
in folding and directing letters, but his
keen glance watched every movement of
his guest, and noted each change in his
mobile countenance.
1t was handsome face, though the
features were delicate almost to efIeminacy
varying SO rapidly in their expression that
one seemed never to grow familiar with
them; at times there came over them a
tired, hopeless look, painful in one so
young, but merry word or laugh would
chase it so rapidly away that it appeared
only shadow, and the almost childish
sweetness returned until it frightened as
if radiant with sunshine.
"You are pre-occupied tonight Will
liam," Mr.. James said, at length, pushing
the table back and turning toward him.
Sears reused himself with II start and
the restraint which that mans very smil-
ing affabiity so frequently caused him, all
came back.
"How old are you now?" Mr.. James
asked, after a time, almost abruptly-no,
not that, for there was never any approach
to abruptness in his voice or manner-but
more quickly than he often spoke, chow
old are you p"
Seventeen"
eyes," he repeated, as if soliloquizing,
''you must be that-seventeen ~
His tone was low, like that of one recall
ing memory-perhaps visions of his own
lost youth were awakened by the word
but no one could have told, that face
would have been mystery to the most
scrutinizing observer.
at is nine years since my mother died, ="
said, the youth, suddenly, 81 should have
been entirely alone in the world except for
YOU"
"You would be certain to make friends
any where" returned he-the tone was
kind, but there was no affection to satisfy
the cravings of heart like that of the
listener.
"It seems so long ago, and yet but yes
terday," continued Sears, impelled to un-
wonted utterance by the power of mem
ory. O. Had you known my mother long 9''
1t was the first time he ever asked that
question. Mr. James looked at him
calmly.
81 knew her many years since, but we
we're too far apart for the acquaintance to
be kept up"
''And my father-you knew my father2"
Mr.. James drew farther back from
the fire and shaded his eyes with his hand.
"Did you know him?" persisted Will
liam.
81 had seen him." he replied quietly.
4 81 cannot remember him at all--if |
Vonly could" said William, sadly. 81
never heard my mother speak Of you until
Just before her death, then she said that a
gentleman would come for me and be my
friend through life, she hoped-for her
sake"
"She honored me by the trust" he re-
plied-did that voice never change P
itssmooth equability grew fairly oppres-
sive.
"And you have fulfilled It'll thank you,
sir p Sears rose from his seat and grasped
Mr.. James hand with affectionate warmth
"Your excisable nature runs away with
you," he replied, smiling and unmoved
II have done what appeared right"
"ButI am growing mp now musi
think of the future-I shall soon cease &c
be boy"