The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1878-12-18


thing like human voice strained to the
utmost, and Hulda started to her feet.
"Be quiet, Hulda," / said, myself far
from easy "it's only the shrieking of
the wind"
But again we heard the voice, and
again we heard my name. Preached for
my cloak and hat, and buckled on my
rubbers, while Hulda stood trembling
by, when suddenly the door few open,
and a great gust of storm and sleet came
pelting in, driving before it man and
some young children he was huddling
before him like sheep in a tempest.
They were blinded with the storm and
half frozen, but the boy dragged his sis
ter by the hand, and poor Bob held the
youngest child in his arms.
"a" Don't you us, Aunt Mag ?" said theII
little fellow. "I'm Bob, you know.
The wagon all broke down, and we're
jolly glad to get ho-ome." Here the
little man began to cry, for his brave
aft was over. r.burdened, and the child
id ob's arms took up the refrain. Bob
hiH&Belf was white as the snow outside,
isad seemed dazed and bewildered. u
= "See here, Mag" he stammered out,
"I've brought the children to you to
board for awhile. Everything's at skies
and sevens in the city; Marley q.
Brothers have gone TO smash; but I'll,
get something in the way of asAerkssjp,
again, and pay the children's board, you
know; they sban't be burden to &oRS.
Mag" reN,
A burden 1t didn't seem much like
burden. Such a glad commotion as
those little ones created, Hulda and
Chloe putting dry clothes on them, and
tricking them out as if for baby mas
querade. The hot posset was poured
down they little throats, and bounti-
full supper rNwss given them of hot milk
end buns.
"There1l be something grand for
breakfast" said, looking upon them as
greedily as ever poor Marley did upon
Hulda. How the old kitchen echoed
with their romps and capers They
were all handsome, every one of them,
with Bob's fine make and build, and
beautiful eyes like their pretty dead
mothers.
''Bob," I said, choking yearningly
over the thought, If you'll give them
to me, the whole three, I'll spend my
whole life in making them happy and
after I'm gone, they shall have the
homestead and every penny I've got in
the world"
eyes, yes," said Bob, who had never
ceased shivering, and was now as hot
and red as he had been white and cold,
"Ill pay their board, Magda this is
only temporary trouble. Ihope to get
clefkship, quite a lucrative clerkship /;
but little Bob will never get through
the storm-never Keep hold of your
sister, Bob" cried my poor brother, in
loud voice, "and keep the tail of my
coat firm in your other hand don't let
go, my son, for Gods sake, Bobby
don't let gol !"
He got upon his feet, and seemed to
be plodding through the storm, and as
he made his way to the kitchen door 1
coaxed him on up to bed in his own old
room, that 1 had kept aired and COM
Portable to Tighten my own achingaheart
When the morning dawned and the doc
tor could get to us, poor Bob was wild
in delirium; the only words he muttered
or called aloud were about bonds and
bills, dollars and fractions of dollars.
His long white fingers seemed to hold
pen, and scratch, scratch the weary fig
ures, ,uporthe counterpane till my eyes
and brain ached for very pity.
For two wretched days and nights he
struggled with this sordid misery, the
fiend of commercial fret and disaster
never letting go his grip; but Christmas
morning dawned clear and bright, and
before the eastern sky had quite lost it's
glory Bob fell into deep, untroubled
sleep. How white and wan he looked |
How thin and bloOdless were the once
busy fingers that now lay limp and still !!
At noon-time the sky was all one blaze
of cloudless sunny blue, and to keep the
room dark l strove to fasten an extra
shawl over the window. Suddenly
heard Bob whispering my name in such
a strange voice that 1 got down quickly
and went over to the bedside, and was
puzzled to hear a low laugh from his
trembling lips.
"Say Mag" he whispered, don't
let mother know. l crept in through
the window, and left some OF my pants
on the gooseberry bushes below you'll
patch 'em up, won't you, MagP And
keep mum about it. Such lark as we
hid last night Dave Devine and I
painted the deacon's horse white and
red but keep mum, Mag-not word
for your life p
kept mum. God knows l couldn' t
speak. had got my boy Bob back
again, but there was a sore tugging at
my heart-strings. The doctor came and
fingered long, then he turned to me-
"My work is done, he said. 81 was
afraid from the first it would be useless ;
a higher and better work has begun.
There is some one down stairs-a stran-
ger in these parts, but no stranger to
I you or me, or this dear lad lying here.
1 wouldn't like to bring a new face
among you Just now, but this one will
do. Bob" he said, leaning over my
poor brother-' Bob, here is an old
friend to pray with us ON this dear day