The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1876-04-19
such elements of life and strength that
complete prostration is impossible. ,a.


sctly suited to the Circumstances. Worl
manual work--was first obtained, and
its results caresully used. In two more
years he had saved enough capital tc
buy q few thousand feet Of lumber,
II don't quite know how such things
happen; suppose they are the natural
sequence of events; but gradually, al.
most imperceptibly, the thousands be-
came tens OF thousands of feet, and the
smaller lumber yard extended itself along
the slow, sluggish river; while small
feet OF lake schooners waited on the
yard, and their every arrival and de-
parture were very apt to leavea balance
on the right side of Robert Hammond's
books. E elr .a re r.a g.
For the frst seven years q desultory
correspondence was kept up with Lucy,
but the last news had all been unfavora-
BILE; Lucy spoke of great losses and re-
verses, and intimated that she was afraid
they would have to relinquish their old
home. Nor were those her oRly troubles
it was evident that she suffered much
from her fathers growing irritabillty
and unreasonableness, and that this was
especially SO at any mention of Robert
or his whereabouts. "'s
The unpleasantness of the news frem
New York was in such direct contrast
with the surroundings of his home, that
Robert might we'll be excused for not
seeking more of it; besides, his business
was constantly increasing. and required
all his thoughts during those hours in
which men may work, SO that, when he
reached his home, the affectionate care of
his pretty wife and children naturally
claimed his first attention.
1t was about twelve years after Robert
Hammond and his wife Lad first turned
their backs upon New York. They were
sitting together one evening in that quiet
hour which supplements the noisy one
given to the children, and precedes those
given to rest. The fire burned brightly,
and the lamps, from under rose-colored
shades, threw soft, warm tlnts on all the
beauty and comforts of a thoroughly hand
some room.
Sitting in her low chair, with closed
eyes and idle hands folded over the
dropped sewing, Mrs. Hammond was
holding pleasant communion with her
own thoughts. Her face had the tender
look on it left by the children's kisses,
Just far enough away to make a low,
musical murmur; their laughing and
talking were tltiully audible; while out
side the luxurious home the snow fell
silently and the bare shrubs shivered
thn uipdoW naDps
1t was near Christmas, and Christmas
Influence was already in mems hearts. A
sudden and great tenderness fell on
Robert Hammond's, as he listened to his
children's voices, and looked around his
happy home, and in the face of his good,
true wife.
And he remembered his faults that
night.
Where were Lucy and his father? For
nearly three years he had heard nothing
certain, and the last intelligence had been
of an uncertain and unpleasant nature.
Perhaps both were suffering the paugs
of poverty, while he had enough and to
spare. Tue thought had crossed his
mind before, and very often of late, in
his house, among his ships,
among his children, but never had 1t al
fected him as now.
"Mary," he SAID to his wife, IN tones so
earnest that she opened her eyes with
start "Mary, where do you think father
and Lucy are?'
God knows, Robert-that is one COM
Tort-but l was just thinking about
,hcm."
Were you? That is strange"
Then, after few minutes OF silent
thought, he got up and walked up and
Town the room, pushing, i'll his Preoccu-
patton, chairs and ottomans out OF his
way -
stitch after stitch, and CHANGING occasion
ally into the troubled face OF her nus
band. Presently he said: .,
"Mary, The river is dead-locked with
ce. l can leave nay business better now
han could ever have done for the last
.en wears. If / start at once l can De IN
New York by Christmas. What do you
say, love" .,,
God go with you, Robcrtl l thinkyou
are right"
So the next morning Robert Ham
mond set his face eastward, and IN due
lime trod the familiar walks of New
York city, but he found his fathers office
in a strange name, and his very memory
had nassed from the constantly changing
financial world The old home was
, ;opty, and falling into that look of de
cayed gentility which is SO much worse
than honest poverty. ,..,
Then he suddenly remembered little
farm not far from Paterson, which had
heen mart of his mothers fortune, and
hiring a horse and buggy, he tried to ind
il. Ii WAS only Il low stone cottage, sur
rounded by cherry trees that were now
MD and bare. The fields around were
vhite and still; the little stream bound IN
lev letters, the cattle staring piteously at
The barren earth, and dumb In their coiu
hunger and com.ortless life.
A rude, implanted fence DIVIDED
small ward and garden from the general
vast of desolation, and walking slowly
,cross the ward was figure which, IN
mite of shabby clothes and aging years,
Robert easily EcSoShi"'A 60
The old man saw the approaching
buggy, and, going to the gate, called
you sed not alight, sit; we have no
room Ia entertain strangers. we never
do it, sirl No, indeed
Then Robert saw a pale, weary-iooking
,voman come for II moment TO the door,
ND after vacant stare, close 1t again.
Il was all very discouras'Dg, but he
,eyer for one moment hesitsied III his IN
len,,ons. Leaving his horse tied TO the
fence he walked up to the closed gate
and stretching his hand across IL SAID;
.FatherH -
The old msn't face grew suddenly gray,
. nd the lines about the mouth deepeneo
inyolun,ariiy; he dropped bis eyes, Dull
raised them quickly to say; 49,,
Il am u poor man, nov, Roeert-'nefe
i nothing 70 be got by seeking me out.
81 want nothing, father, but your Tor
c;veness and love. l am a rich man now
Unless you shut your door aSsin'' me-
Then shall feel poor enough
k