The Red Cloud chief., 1878-02-21

With his whole frame quivering with
excitement-without pausing even To
close the organ, or To extinguish his
| Pickering c~andle--the old man CROPPED
| his way down the narrow winding stair
which led to the street. and hurriedly
closing the door behind him, stepped
forth bareheaded into the stormy night
For some hours before Michael Fray
was startled, as we have related. by the
mysterious echo of his brother song.
an old man and a young girl had been
making their way citywards from the
southeastern side Of London. Both
walked YEARLY, as though they had
tramped for a long distance. and once
or twice the young girl wiped away a
tear, though she strove hard 10 hide 1T
from her companion, and forced herself
TO speak with a ~cheerfulness in strange
contrast with her sunken cheeks and
f~ootsore gait. Every now and then, in
passing through the more frequented
streets, they would pause; and the man,
| who carried the violin, would strike up
some old ballad tune with a vigor and
power of execution which even his frost
nipped fingers and weary limbs could
not wholly destroy: while the girl, with
a sweet though very sad voice, accom-
panied him with the appropriate words.
But their attempts We're miscrably I'M
productive. In such bitter weather few
who could help il would stay away from
their warm firesides; and those whom
stern necessity kept out Of doors seem
ed only bent on dispatching their sew
eral tasks, and to have no time or thO't
to expend on a couple of wandering
tramps singing by the roadside. Still
they toiled IN. every now and then
making a fresh pitch at some likely
corner, only too often ordered to ''move
on" by a stern policeman. As they
drew nearer to the city and the hour
grew later. the passers-by became few
er and farther between, and the poor
wanderers felt that it was idle even to
seek for charity in those deserted, silent
streets. At last the old man stopped
and groaned aloud.
what is it. grandfather dear? Don't
| give in now, when we have come SO far.
Lean on me-dO; I'm hardly tired at all;
and l dare say we shall do better to-
morrow"
'.To-mOrrowr' said the old man, bit
terly; ''tO-mOrrOw will be toe late. |
don't mind hunger, and don't mind
cold; but the shame of it, the disgrace
after having struggled against it all
these years-to come to the wOrkhOuse
at last! 1t isn't for myself | mind
beggars mustn't be chOOsers; and, |
dare say, better men than | have slept
IN q. ,ns.u ,r-n,l. LIT va, $685., l..
little Lily. The thought breaks my
heart! it kills mer' And the old man
sobbed aloud.
"Dear grandfather, you are always
thinking of me, and never of yourself.
What does it matter. after all? it's only
the name of the thing. I'm sure | don't
mind it one bit" The shudder of hor-
ror which passed owe the girls frame
gave the lie to her piOus falsehood. 81
dare say it is not SO very bad; and, af-
ter all, something may happen to pre-
vent it even now
what a happen short Of a miracle,
i'm these deserted ~streets?"
"Well, let is hope for the miracle,
then, dear. God has never quite de-
serted us i'm our deepest troubles, and |
don't believe He will forsake us now"
As she spoke she drew her thin shawl
Ore closely rorca her, shivering in
spite of herself, under cover of the cold
blast, which seemed To receive no check
from her scanty coverings. Again the
pair crept on, and, passing beneath the
lofty wall of st. Winifred's Church,
Stood beneath it for a temporary shell
ter from the driving wind and snow.
While SO Standing they caught the faint
sounds of the organ solemnly pealing
within.
Noble music" said the old man, as
the final chords died away; ''noble mu-
sic, and a soul in the playing. That
man. whoever he may be, should have
a generous heart"
''Hush, grandfather" said the young
girl. he is beginning to play again"
Scarcely had the music commenced.
however, than the pair gazed at each
other in breathless surprise.
Lily, darling. do you hear what he
is playing. ?" said the old man in an ex-
cited whisper.
"A strange coincidence" the girl re-
Strange! it is more than strange!
Lily, darling, who could play that
SOngP"
The melody came to an end, and all
was silence. There was a moments
pause, and then, rs if by a common i'm
pulse, the old man drew his bow across
the strings, and the girls sweet voice
carolled forth the second verse of the
song. Scarcely had they ended when a
door opened at the foot of the church
tower just beside them, and Michael
Fray, bareheaded. with his scanty locks
blown about by the wind, stood before
them. He hurried forward and then
stood still. shamefaced and b~ewildered.
The song had called up the vision of a
gallant young sailor, full of life and
health, as Michael had seen his brother
for the last time on the day when he
sailed on that fatal voyage. He had
hurried forth, forgetting the years that
had passed. full of tender memories of
the happy boyish days, to find, alas!
only a couple of wandering beggars
singing for bread.
81 beg your PARDON" he said, striv-
ing vainly to master his emotions; ..you
sang a song just now which-whlch-a
song which was a favorite of a dear
friend of mine many years ago. Will
you-will you tell me where you got
it?r
''By the best of titles, sir" the old
fiddler answered, drawing himself up
with a touch of artistic pride; Il wrote
it myself, words and music, both"
NAY, SIR" said Michael, sternly, |
s.YOu rob the dead. A dearly loued