The Weston Democrat. [volume] (Weston, W. Va.) 1875-current, 1876-05-29


to get rid Of me-. placed no on beard N,
immigrant ship bound for Australia TINT
belonged to friend OF his. HIRE was
treated like dog, and rs soon rs We
reached Melbourne l ran away to the
diggings. And now WIS in q line thai
inst suited me. 1 had no great luck,
but was making my living and enjoying
myself first rate. So pleased was l with
myself that I must write home tc
mother with packet Of gold dust and
q lot Of stories about the diggings. ]
was even so much mollified that I sent
my love to Garry and kind regards to
Baker.
Well, it so happened that my letter
reached home Just after Garry and
mother had fallen out, and mother Ind
mustered up spirit to send EN- out Of
the house md getrid Of them. And she
wrote to me, poor woman, such kind
letter. was her own dear, darling boy,
and she saw row how that willy Baker
had SGT her against me. But il I'd come
homo now and close her eyes all that
she had would be mine, and I should
take my proper place III the world.
Added to that she sent NC bank post
bill for g100 to pay my expenses.
After that I felt I was bound to 60,
and yet things kept turning up That
hinderGd nc from starting. had to
finish out II piece with my mates, mud
then l waited for a chum Of mine who
drove bus to Melbourne, who was 60.
ing home, too; so that it was year or
more before found myself anchored in
tho Downs, with tho white cliffs OF old
England shining in tho distance. l
landed there and mhdc my way without
troubling myself about my baggage,
Just as I was, half sailor, half digger,
across the country to Biddlcsdcn, where
mother lived.
I fancy I SEQ tho place nova rcd
brick housc, with bow windows Kept
wonderfully bright, wiro blinds, and
green venetians; the street with tuft by
the sides, and nice trees growing here
md there. Itiooked so quiet aud cheer
fuI, with the sun shining brightly on
everything, that said to myself, quite
in tho poetic vein "lf there's peace
to be fonnd in the world tho heart that
is humble may hope for it here"
There were beautiful white stops mp to
mothers door, and l walked up them
with a strange, uneasy feeling, half joy
and half foreboding. 1t was just four
o'clock. Mother would be sitting by
the fire. She always had bit Ct tlro,
except in the very hottest weather. Din
ner had Just been taken away. There
would be two decanters on the table in
little round stands, few biscuits, two
or three apples, and some wAlnuts, in
dishes Of old china. Mother would
have her feet OIL tho fender, with her
dress tucked over her knees and her
black quilted satin petticoat warming III
the blaze. I would inst pop in quietly.
Halo, mother!" should say, Just MS
if I'd como home from school, and slip
behind her chair and give her kiss bc-
fore the old lady knew where she was.
Lord, how my heart did beat as !
softly opened the door! This was what
saw-tho decanters were there all
right, and tho dessert, and tho smell OF
dinner and wine, inst as o. old, but
there was no mother sitting there.
Garry in black OH one side o the fire;
Baker in black OH tho other; little Tim
uings, the lawyer, iu tho middle,
4macking his lips over glass Of port.
Ny voice died away in my throat: l
shut the door gently and went of into
the kitchen. There was Patty. mothers
old servant, putting away tho silver.
She was in black. too, aud crying over
tho things. She gave such a scream
when she saw me. was rough look
ing chap, benr in mind, and she didn't
know me Mt the moment.
"I'm Dick" I said, "Patty. Where's
mother I"
"Oh," she cried, putting her hands
on my shoulder, and looking into my
face to make sure I was speaking truth;
"Oh, dear, Master Dick, why didn't
YOU come home bcforef"
So it was. Mother Ind been dead
and buried fortnight ago. Baker had
smoothed her over long before her
death, md he and Carry between them
had made it right abont the property. !
don't know what lies Baker had told
about mo, but Raw her will afterwards
and there was nothing for me except n
hundred pounds. Aud l didn't even
get that, for they made out that l had
been advanced tho money beforehand
that hundred pounds mother sent me,
You remember-and knew it was no
good fighting Baker about it, me that
hadn't halfpenuy.
All the knocking about hadn't knock
cd tho pride out Of me. Before Id be
beholden to Garry or Baker for penny
I'd starve; and ! came very near starv-
ing, too. I walked up to London
hungry and iootsore. I slept under
trees in the park, and earned few shil'
liugs Mt tho docks, Just enough to keep
bUdyaud soul together, till one day I had
carried ship captains bag from Vic
toria docks to Chariug Gross for a shil'
ling, aud stood Mt tho corner by st.
Martins church, looking ut the foun-
tains and tho big lions. and wishing ono
OF them was alive md would mako M
end Of me, when II yellow bus drove up
aud chap sings out:
"Hallo, Dick |" 1t was the chum I'd
como home with who was sitting up
there driving. "Jump mp" no said;
and got upon the box.seat and We had
a long talk, and finding l was doing no
good, he offered to get me job to look
after the horses OF the 'bns.
But he did better than that for me;
for, seeing that I had got some educa-
ton about me, the manager made aeon
ductor OF mo.
It wasn't that gay, agreeable job |
once thought it. To be sure tho limo |
was in wasn't ono that admits Of much
-. IIbVNo,;a 'tnriO - and