The Findlay Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Hancock County, Ohio) 1870-1881, 1878-03-29
NO n

I
@Sho now, that are can't be; guess you
dreamed it, Miss Annie. Why, Deacon
Ellery's a good man; Christian cretur
as ever was; can't be somebody's ben
Ia
annie" called Mrs Palmer, evidently
in haste and Jim drove off, feeling in an
uncertain sort of way as if he hadn't
heard or ought not to have heard such
things about his best friend, even from
the adorable Annie. But the thing
worked IN his feeble head, and as fools
rush in where angels fear to tread" and
sometimes do good service by the folly,
so Jim plunged into the middle to things
the very next morning, as he was brush
ing the shoes for church going, while
the deacon read over his Sunday school
lesson by the window.
"Sayl you hain't got any son, have We,
deacon?"
The old man looked at Jim with an air
of terror as well as wonder, and turned
pale as ashes.
ayes, Pge got son." he answered
mechanically.
why, | h1ln't never seen him." ex-
claimed Jim, as if still he scarcely be
lieved.
"He has not been at home for five long
years, Jim he is prodigal who filleth
himself with husks," solemnly replied
the deacon, who had somewhat recovered
his poise.
"WelI, why don't We fetch him home
nd give him suthin' to eat?"
The deacon stared at Jim. but could
not answer.
Whats he been an done, anyway
went on the simple torturer. KILLED
anybody? stole anythin?"
No! mo- no." calculated the deacon,
raging inwardly between the persistency
of his questioner and the impossibility
of explaining to him the reason of Sans
banishment. Perhaps, too, the reason
why this was so difficult to explain began
to wrestle with his conscience.
well, I'm dretful sorry said Jim
musingly. ~My daddy, now, was poor
cretur, drunk mostly but he was real
good to me. Pm glad he want no better
mebbe shouldn't ha' ben good enough
for him to speak to, too"
The deacon could have struck Jim,
who went on brushing shoes as seriously
as if they were an algebraic problem.
well, Jim, the fact is, he didn't bet
ieve in the Bible, Sam didn't"
Poor creturl poor cretur" said Jim,
warming into sympathy at once. "Well,
deacon, ye know what We was a readin'
about to me last Sabba' day; tryin' to
drive inter my head, ye know?-takes
lot O. time to drive anythin' into a
FOOLS head but l can't disremember
that, twas so kinder marciful like, bout
how the good Lord forgiv' them fellers
that killed Him, cause He said they
did't know what they was doin.'
Mebbe your Sam don't; what efye was
to take him to Sabba' school and learn
him better You tell me where he stays,
an I'll 60 fetch him."
Jim was in eager earnest; his eyes
were lit with unusual rays, and one
hand held out awkwardly toward the
deacon; but the old man could net an
swer; he stumbled away to the bedroom
and fell on his knees by the bedside.
What he said to God IS not for us to
know; what he did, was to write letter
that very night to Samuel, and beg him
to come home to his old father and his
loving mother.
As for Jim, the matter passed clear out
of his oddly made-up mind: he had sat-
isced himself the deacon had son, the
immediate curiosity was at rest. He
did not see Annie Palmer the next day;
in fact, so inconsequent we're his mental
processes when under external excite
ment he did not once think of what she
said to HIM; but only missed her as he
would miss sunshine, or fire, or food; for
Annie had become a necessity to the
argest share of mis- nature-his heart
A week after Mrs Ellery came out
into the garden where Jim was wedding.
80 Jim," said she, "my dear son, my
Sam, is coming home to-morrer; and
goin' to be married"
"Well, I'm glad ONT" cheerfully an
swered Jim.
ayes, he's a comm home to-morrer.
l hain't sot eyes on him this five years
an more; and Thursday he's goin' TO
be married to Annie Palmer"
80 Lord" said Jim, with a gasp; but
the good woman did not hear him; heart
and head were full Of Sam, and she
turned and went into the house.
jim did not come in after milking
that night; the deacon found him curled
down in a corner Of the barn.
Il guess I'm sick" was all he said, but
somehow he reminded the deacon Of an
old dog he once had, that was mortally
wounded by accident, and stole into
that very corner to die. There was the
same hurt, protesting look in both pairs
of eyes.
They took him into his own room,
and in day or two he was better, but
never well again; he lived few months,
feeble, patient, smiling, and doing all he
could. The only queer thing about him
was that he never asked to see Annie
Palmer, or even spoke her name again.
Sam went up stairs to see him, Eut Jim
was asleep, he said, and ne wouldn't
waken him. Perhaps Deacon Ellery,
being a reticent man, never told how
much he owed the poor fool. Annie
forgot him too, probably; but what can
you expect of happy young bride?
When winter came Jim went. DIR Green
said the cold was too great for such a
lew state Of vitality; perhaps it was.
However that might be, one starry and
splendid night quick flash sprang into
the languid eyes. Mother he said,
with an accent Of rapture, and Jericho
Jim was gone to the jerusalem which is
above.-Rose Terry Cooke, IN Sunday At
ter1sOoa f5r March.
a traveller in western Iowa while
riding along came to large sign, which
implored him TO "Look out for the
locomotive" He accordingly rode
down the track for better view, and
while he was obligingly looking out"