The tribune. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1874-1876, 1875-04-21

the girl was passing on, when the cob
bier voice arrested her.
say, your mothers i'll, amt she ?"
he asked, nursing his knee with both
arms.
Yes, Mr.. Crayshaw, am sorry to
say she has been for some while aiiing.
She-she"- and the young voice trem-
bled with tears" is very sick
Then you must give her lots to eat, ="
responded jerry, staring out of the win
dow. "The best thing for weak people
IS nice fowl and a bottle of wine. Why
don't you give them herl"
-" wish l was able, or even to pro-
vide her less expensive dainties; but
but = afM the tears fell fast 'sI can
not"
"Ah, that's the fault, you see, of hay
ing no money. Good evening""
He resumed his work, and the girl,
scarcely cheered by this little episode,
went, with heavy heart, up stairs.
Mrs Weston was so ill, she was living
on her bed. The candle was in the
room, and i'll the parlor CRATE burnt few
sparks of fire, over which was a small
saucepan. On the table was tea-tray,
and portion of a previous days loaf.
1t was such depressing welcome home
after the weary, weary day, that with
difficulty the poor girl could control her
emotion.
els that you, Clare2" inquired the
widows feeble voice.
eyes, mother"
Come to me, my child"
Clare pressed her white hands to her
bosom, made an effort, and passed into
the bedroom. But the mothers first
words beat down all her noble-souled
heroic sef-repression.
Glare, dear, you had better success
to day."
The girl dropped Oh chair, and bury
ing her face on the coverlet, burst into
paroxysm of weeping.
No, MOTHER" she sobbed, hysteri-
cally. "It's the same old, old story T
can get nothing. What shall we do7 1
feel heart-broken."
"Clare, Glare, my child" calculated
the mother, fondly embracing her, edo
not you give way! What, indeed, will
become of us then2 My brave, brave
girl, do not weep thus p
Pray let me; mother I shall be bet
ter after it."
She, apparently, was right, for at the
end of o few moments she looked up
calmer her tears ceased.
There" she smiled; "I am better
now. "Its good to give way at times,
you know. At least, one can't help it,
and our lot is so hard ; but we shall get
used to it"
"Hard 1t breaks my heart to con-
template it when I think of you, Glare.
What different future did I and your
father intend you, love! But who could
imagine such villain as John Burge
ever existed2"
"Ah, me-ah, me to look round at
this place, and remember the pleasant
home which once was ours Now, we
are alone, and not single friend in the
world"
"Not one Oh, yes, mother, believe
me, one !" cried the girl, quickly. "He
IAGilbert-will be true-trust me, he
will"
w ..1Wh:y,, y, then, Glare, has he not
'tI do not know-I cannot tell" ex-
claimed the daughter, piteously; "but,
oh, pray, pray, mother, do not take that
hope from me Let me believe in
Gilbert. 1t is my only support in this
bitter misery 70
The widow, touched with q pleading
countenance, was about to reply, when,
interrupting herself, she said: "Clare,
l hear some one in the parlor. See who
it is, dear"
The girl obeyed, and started at the
weird scene she beheld
Seated before the CRATE, on three
legged stool, was the cobbler, yet in
leather apron and cap. On his knees
was bellows, which he was working
with consummate skill, evidently a
master of the art, sending the Goals into
bright blazes that threw flashes of lurid
color over the quaint figure and the
room.
Upon hearing Glare, he turned, almost
with q snarl.
elbow do you expect to boil n sauce
pan with such q fire as this?" he growled.
"Never was halter as mad as you, I'm
certain. Now, look at that; amt it q
picturel"
Glare did look, and saw that not only
were the Goals increased, but that they
were not from their own store.
"It is quite cheering" she managed
to say, "but--but 1 fear, Mr.. Crayshaw,
you have been robbing yourself.
"Robbing myself2-me2-not bit.
I'm a miser. Didn't you here the BOYS
call me so-Jerry, the miser2" he
snapped. "Pd rob anybody sooner than
myself. am miser, and I'm proud of
it. Some men are called painter and
poet. Well, I'm called cobbler and
miser."
"Reallyl" said Clare, little amused,
little frightened, looking at the glow
ing Goals; 81 should have scarcely thought
So"
"That shows your ignorance" re-
sponded jerry. Cant you see, by
calculation, it's cheaper to keep up one
good fire than two small ones2 so I'm
going to sit by yours. Also, clubbing
two nersons' ten tooethar is chea,,er than