Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1877-03-21

"Mother, mother" he murmured.
81 can't find grandfather-and it's
so cold. l am So" His head
dropped on her shoulder, and his
eyes closed again. One of his hands,
which, up to this moment, had been
tightly shut, opened weakly, and a
note fell to the floor.
Mrs. Somers did not see the note.
Something in the boys look had
startled her; she gave quick
glance up at her master; then she
began to tremble all over.
Mr.. Ascot, who had been stand
ing near her, full of interested
anxiety, did not observe this look,
for his attention had been attracted
by the note, which he now stopped
to pick up. Then he proceeded
to take out his glasses, in order to
read the superscription.
"Perhaps this may throw some
light on the natter" he said. "The
poor lad has been sent out on an
errand, and has tainted from cold,
and perhaps hunger. What What!
Good God !" his hands we're shak-
ing like leaf in an autumn wind.
In the deep stiffness the paper rat
tied with a startling noise. at
can't. bet can't be Mrs, Som
ers, your eyes are younger than
mine-read, reads that address
lis it-mine-Thornton scot@
AS he spoke, in choked, convul'
sive gasps, Mrs. Somers leaned for
ward to read. The motion reused
the boy again, and be opened hi;
ewes this time with more of con
seriousness in them ; and he fixed
long, questioning, puzzled look OF
Mr.. Ascot.
"Merciful heaven !" the latte
said, staggering like one strucl
with sudden palsy, lit is her eye'
her eyes"
With these words, he fell bacl
senseless, the half-open letter flut
tering from his fingers to the floor
Fortunately the policeman was il
time to catch him, and lay him o'
, the sofa.
For q moment the boy was for
! gotten, every one pressing aroun
, the master of the house.
5 ais it a stroke I" asked the pc
!. liceman, anxiously. What does
;, mean Z"
: At any other time, Mrs. Somel
would have been reticent abor
family affairs, but she was too flu
t ried to think clearly. Surprise
:. out of herself, she took her aud
ence, unconsciously, into her col
:, fidence.
u "No, it's not a stroke" she al
y swered, with the experience of lor
y years of nursing.
4 His face isn't awry, you SCI
' and he's only limp, not paralyze
5 There, I've opened his cravat, al
now, Jane, bring some water. i
:. but faipting ft; he often has e
when he's worried often, mea
:. " since his daughter went away. 5
"" "" ran off, you know, most ten yea
. ago. He's never forgiven her.
:, rather she's never, leastways of la
years, asked to be forgiven. L
last time was when she came h'
self, Just after she was marrie'
~ All this time Mrs. Somers "
m busy trying to revive her mast
chatting his hands, holding smellir
~ salts to him, even ordering
nor window opened, on night as b
,,n as this. "He turned her from
se- doors, in a perfect rage. l me-
70 seen him so angry afore or sin
70 But he's been sorry for it, ma
re- and many a time, l know.
40 heard him sigh so! He was thil
ing of her, He'd have forgiven
- years ago, il she would only b.
ra. come again. But she was as PR
ra as him. I don't know which
a I the prouder. She went to iol
inr parts with her husbsnd--hed b
her music teacher, you sec th
red what nndc Mr.. Ascot so ang
srs, and she has not been heard of
out these years and years. There
ses coming to; what o sigh Sc