The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1877-07-27

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no help for it. won't see you turned
out OF doors. Pm going, Maudie. I'll
take the box down to DoffrafieId's, and
see what l can do. Don't breathe a
word to mamma until ] come back.U
Meantime, Mrs. Delafield, in the other
room, was wearily getting her few ef-
fects together, in order for their sudden
removal. A great many empty caskets
passed through her hands. One box
had held laees, another jewels, another
rare linens; all were empty. The con-
tents had gone for daily bread, as Tom
had said. She was looking with a sort
OF vague hope, if there was anything
left to sell.
At the very bottom of one trunk she
came upon coat which had belonged
to her husband, worn and familiar in
look, a handkerchief in one pocket,
letter in another. She put it back with
sudden cry of pain.
"Oh! can't, can't! Heaven help
mep' she cried, and burying her face in
her hands, burst into tears.
Her husband had been Surgeon John
Delafield, of the United States service;
and, for the first two years after their
marriage, she had gone with him over
seas, and into many a foreign land.
Such happy years they were! But after
that Maudie was so fragile that she was
compelled to remain at home. Her
! husband went alone, and from one voy-
age he never returned. There had been
a succession of great gales at sea, and
his vessel had never been heard from.
Ten dreary, endless years! Yet how
green his memory lived in her true
heart still! She put back the coat, as
something too sacred to be touched, and
closed the trunk.
Meantime, Tom made his way to Dof-
fratield's, sort of marine institution,
near the harbor, whose proprietor made
his living by buying up odds and ends
from INDECENT seamen.
Here he offered the box of surgical
instruments for sale, and received a
paltry offer for them.
"Only that? Why, they're worth
five times as much," cried Tom, indig-
nantly.
Twenty times as much would better
express it," put in stranger who stood
looking on. "Boy, what are you SELL
ing those instruments for? How did
you come by them?"
Tom faced about like lion, his hand
some eyes flashing fire.
81 came by them honestly, sir, though
don't admit your right to question me-
They belonged to my father"
The stranger smiled admiringly.
at was impertinent to ask; but ]
might buy them, if could feel sure you
are right in selling them"
81 am right, sir. They belonged tc
my father, and-and- You see, sir
we're hard up, and they've got to go.'i
The confession cost the boy a strug.
orla md hrnnphF hn hIOod l.; = f,;,
forehead.
"WhO was your father, my fine fel.
Iow?"
"My father, sir, was Surgeon Johr
Delafield. He is dead"
"What? What do you say ?" cried the
stranger. "Gracious heavens! Why
Tom, Tom, don't you know me? Pm
your fatherw
Tom wheeled around, and looked
hard at the brOnzed face. The tender
handsome eyes were not to be mistaken
He had seen them too often in the little
locket his mother always wore upon bel
heart.
He made a step forward, and tried tt
speak, but the words failed. He fell t.
the floor in a heap. Poor, brave, self
confident Tom had tainted like a girl
But the keen air soon restored him.
"Come, father. o, do come, father
he cried, tugging at his fathers arm
"Only think of 'em at homeI In suct
awful trouble, too! o, think of nam
ma and Maudie! Father, do come OF
fastp
They hurried on through the increas
ing storm.
"There's the house, father. You SCI
that light yonder? We couldn't afforC
to live in New York any longer, anC
had to come to this cheap place. But
even here we're starving. Oh, my
precious little mother, won't this be The
jOlliest night of her whole life? tt
think of the trouble she's in! Ordered
to leave the cottage tomorrow, too
That's why I wanted to sell your in
struments, you see, father"
The cottage was now at hand. A
their knock, Mrs. Delafield opened th,
door. Her husband rushed forward
and caught her to his heart.
at is |, dear! Don't you know me
Not dead, but saved by miracles, aftel
all these long years"
"Hurrah it's fatherW cried Tom
whirling his cap in the air.
She did not faint, as Tom had eX
pected. Her great sorrow had neve
been boisterous, neither was her grea
joy:
Maudie looked up at the sun-browneC
face when she, too, had heard the won
derful news.
"Where have you been, papa? Tt
heaven? And has God sent you bacl
to US ?"
mot to heaven, Maudie. The othe
place would better express it. Wrecked
off the South Sea Islands, and as gooC
as roasted and eaten by cannibals, theI
prisoner for years. But here 1 am a
last. Tom found me-"
Maudie's shining eyes sought he
mothers.
''Yes, papa, Tom found you. But
believe, all the same, it was Gods Op
pOrtunity." y."-PetersOn' Magazine.
If women would only be not quite 81
afraid of being thought unwomenly
they would be great deal more wom