The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1877-06-23
and he talked terribly to poor mamma

What? Why, we can't go. The
snow will be a foot deep by morning.
'Twould be the death of you, Maudie.
Now. shouldn't mind it one bit; but
YOU and MANN! Oh, it isn't to be
thought of | must prevent it somehow
Maudie's eyes frightened. Tom was
the hero of her lonely life
"What shall we dc, Tom?" she asked.
Cant tell Let me think Bit" he
answered, Seating himself, boy fashion,
astride chair. % If there was anything
that could be sold, now; but poor
mamma has let everything go, to keep us
in bread and butter Dear me! l wish
| was man, or mamma would let me
leave school and 90 to work" :
"Tom, Pve few bits of needle work,
that might be sold.'
cob! bother Maudiel Girls work
never amounts to anything. What help
would that be?"
Maudie answered not word, but her
sensitive lip quivered. Tom saw, and
REDEEMED to the roots of his curling hair.
"There, Maudie, didn't mean that
I was vexed, and spoke without think
ing. +" Pm ashamed of myself. You help
us ever so much, with your dear, patient
little fingers"
Maudie's Brown eyes shone like gold
! stone.
Eve hit It'll" suddenly cried Tom.
"Tll sell that box of instruments that
belonged to papa. | don't like to; but
if ever Pm surgeon, FL manage to get
more. I'll do it."
"Will mamma like it, Tom?" said
Maudie, doubtfully. I" She naver would
part with anything that belonged to
papa"
~ know" And Toms firm. mouth,
so like his fathers, quivered slightly.
Z" But she'll have to like it, child.
There's no help for it. l won't see you
turned out of doors. Pm Igoing,
Maudie. I'll take the box down to Dotf-
rafeld's, and see what | cam do Don't
breathe q word to mamma, until come
back"
Meantime, Mrs. Delafield, in the
other room, was YEARLY getting her few
effects together, in order for their sud-
den removal A great many empty
caskets passed through her hands. One
box had held faces, another jewels,
another rare linens; all were empty.
the contents had gone for daily bread.
as Tom had said She was looking with
sort of vague hope, if there was any
thing left to sell.
At the very bottom of one trunk, she
came upon a coat, which had belonged
to her husband; worn and familiar in
} look, a handkerchief in one pocket, a
letter in another. She put it back with
sudden cry of pain.
COIL / can't, | can't! Heaven help
mel" 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 foreign land.
Such happy years they were But after
that Maudie was 50 fragile that she was
compelled to remain at home. Her hus-
band went alone; and from one voyage
he never returned. There had been
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 DofI-
rafelds, 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 pal
try 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, j" put in stranger who stood
looking on. "Boy, what are you selling
llIOSc illoei ulICHlo 1OI f.! IION uAu yOu
come by them?"
Tom faced about like lion, his hand
some eyes flashing fire.
g came by them honestly, sir, though
don't admit your right to question me.
They belonged to my father"
The stranger smiled admiringly.
" 1t was impairment to ask; but |
might buy them, if / could feel sure
you are right in selling them"
g | am right, sir They belonged to
my father, and-and - You see, sir,
we're hard up, and they've got to go"
The confession cost the boy struggle,
and brought the blood to his fair fore
head
Who was your father, my fine fell
low?'
MY father, sir, was Surgeon John
Delafield He is dead"
What! What doyou say?" cried the
stranger Gracious heavens! Why,
Tom, Tom, don't you know me? Pm
your father!"
Tom wheeled around, and looked hard
at the bronzed face. The tender, hand
some eyes were not to be mistaken He
had seen them too often in the little
locket his mother always wore upon her
heart.
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