, 1878-07-25

]
| the unmeritci blow. All! it is an old
story; no words are pathetic enough to
do it justice
The house in which Tommy lived, and
where the father slept IN drunken stupor,
was near the lcyce in great city. 1t
was raining icarfully, but above the noise
Of the rain could be heard the mad roar
Of the river, ~ it dashed onward, past
the alarmed city.
Ofa sudden, bell sounds, ringing out
clearly above the storm-aboye the deaf.
ening roar There is wild shouting in
| the Street-mad voices crying out:
Back back from the river, for your
lives, back the Ievee is giving way
White, faced Tommy hears this, and
tugs with all his might at the drunken
man sleeping SO near deaths door.
"Oh, father, GOMEZ he cries; "waken,
waken!'
A muttering curse is the only answer.
"We'll be swept away Father, the
river is overlooking the town"
No words reply to the boys frantic
appeal.
"Come, father, come. hear the water
rushing along"
He clasps his fathers hand, and tries,
in his puny strength, to pull him from
his miserable bed. He falls back himself
helpless and discouraged.
"Oh, motherl" he cries, he isn't fl to
go I've done my best I've tried to
save him--to make him better; to make
him good enough to come with me to
you, up there; but he will not listen
Give him little longer time. Oh, father,
waken; it is almost too late!"
Too late, too late! The river is grow
ing more fearful, the clamor Of voices
dying away, the streets, by all living
beings, are deserted. Under the door
some cold and creeping thing is fast COM
ing. 1t steals in slowly, a little stream
at first, then rushes on faster, crosses the
floor, and laps about the little bare feet.
"Ob, father, father, it is here " and yet
the faithful child stands firmly.
Upward, upward, the water rises. 1t
covers the cold feet, eddies about the
ankles. 1t strikes chill through the
unclothed limbs-a deep chill through
the child's heart For himself he is not
afraid; but, o, God of mercy! must he
CO. and her wish unfulflled4 He thinks
then of that unknown future; of the great
gulf between the good and bad; of the
fearful wickedness of his unkind father;
of the angelic goodness of his blessed
mother; and though he is too much of
child to clothe the thought in words, yet
his baby heart realizes the terrible trage-
dy, and he cries aloud again
"Father, oh, father, do not die, and so
forever be kept away from mother and
mel"
The sleeping man turns heavily.
"He is awakening-awakeping at lastW
the child cries, eagerly.
The water comes up to his waist. 1t
creeps over the edge of the bed and vets
the mouldy straw. 1t reaches the sleep.
'ng man. He mutters wearily:
"Curse the cold If had drink of
whisky might drive the chill away;
but the last dime is gone"
"Oh, father, come, quick, come The
levee's broken awayl 1t is water that
you feel-it is that which sends the chill
over you. Come, father, come!"
What! water roaring all about us
The cursed river in the room, and not a
stream of old bourbon flowing by as l
dreamed Why didn't you waken me,
Tommy9 You know l am not fit to die
Here, let me rest my hand on your
shoulder"
He staggered heavily to his feet,
crossed the room unsteadily, unlatched
the door and went out into the fearful
flood. In going out, he went down two
steps. 1t brought the water to his shoul-
ders. Tommy, following him closely,
went down the two ateps also. 1t brought
the water over Tommy's bead.
The drunken man rushed on, making
toward the bluff that lay back from the
river. There was a faint, drowning cry
Of "Oh, father" ending in hoarse gur-
gle-a lifting up for moment of a white
face and two white, childish hands, and
then the hands and face were gone--lost
amid the rushing, boiling water.
A fearful bUtfeting against the mad
stream, terrible struggle for worthless
life, and the sobered inebriase reached
the bluff. Then the horrible truth rushes
upon him. Then he understands the
faithtulness of his dead Child-realizes
! to its fullest extent that he has sent that
child to his death.
The morning came. Rocked on the
swaying branch of an uprooted tree, they
found the little martyr, his white face
cleaning in the spring sunshine. But
The pure young soul had entered upon
that everlasting spring of which he mad
so often dreamed, with his head lying
on his mothers grave. Two graves then
in the churchyard-two deaths in the
household-and he responsible for both !!
Could he ever become, through his terri
ble penitence, good enough to meet them
mp there9 He seemed to see Tommy's
tiny hands reaching out to him through
the terrible gloom that had settled swiftly
over him; he seemed to hear Mary's voice
calling to him.
Let US hope that the child's death has
not been in vain, for he for whom he died
| has turned his feet aWav from the road