The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1879-10-24
A BANK-NOTE, In HALVES.
First Half.

Wet and dreary. 1t is midwinter;
the scene is Huntington, on the Lon
don and Northwestern; the time, 10 AS;
just after the night mail has flashed
through without stopping, bound for
Liverpool and the North. The railway
neutrality-suspicious. signalmen, porters,
platelayers-are collecting preparatory
to going off duty for the night.
where's DAMP" asks one of the
crowd upon the platform.
Il saw him in the hut just after the
10 :45 went through. Can't have come
to any harm, surely?"
"No; he said he seen something drop
from the train, and he went down the
line to pick it up"
And Dan had picked up something.
1t was basket, common white wicker
basket with lid fastened down by a
string. What did it contain? Re-
freshments? Dirty clothes? What?
baby-a child half dozen weeks
old, no more. A pink and white piece
of human china as fragile as Dresden,
and as delicately fashioned and tinted
as biscuit of Rose Pompadour.
Where did you come across it?"
asked one.
Lying on the line, just where it fell.
Perhaps it didn't fall; perhaps it was
chucked out. What matter? I've got
it, and got to look after it; that's
enough for me. Some day maybe I'll
come across them as owns it, and then
they shall pay me and take it back"
is there nothing about him? Turn
him over"
The little mites linen was white and
of fine material, but he lay on an old
shawl and a few bits of dirty flannel.
All they found was dilapidated purse,
a common bag purse of faded brown
leather. Inside was brass thimble,
pawn ticket, and the half of Bank of
EDglan note for 9100.
What goods half a bank-note to
you?"
Half loafs better than no bread"
Yes, but you can eat one, and you
can't pass the other. Won't you catch
it from your wife? How'll you face her,
DAMP What'll she say?"
She'll say [ done quite right" re-
piled Dan, stoutly. "She's good sort,
God bless her."
$50 are you, Dan, that's fact. God
bless you, too," said more than one
rough voice in softened accents. "Per-
haps the bratll bring you luck, after
ALL"
Winter-tide again six years later, but
this season is wet and slushy. Once
more we are at Kirklington, long,
struggling village, which might have
slumbered On in obscurity forever had
not the Northwestern line been carried
close by It, to give it place i'll Brad
shaw and certain Importance as juno
ton and a center for good traffic. But
the activity was all about the station.
All the permanent officials had houses
and cottages there; in the village lived
only the field laborers who worked at
the neighboring estate, or sometimes
lent their hand for Job of surveying
on the line. The poor folks had a grue-
some life Of it-a hard, hand-to. mouth
struggle for bare existence against per-
petual privation, accompanied by unre-
hitting toll.
A new parson-Harold Treffry-had
come lately TO Kirklington. He was an
earnest, energetic young man, who had
won his spurs in an East-end parish.
and had now accepted this country liv-
ing because it seemed to open up a new
field of usefulness. He had plunged
bravely into the midst of his work he
was forever going up and down among
his practitioners, solacing and comfort
ing, preaching manful endurance and
trustfulness to all.
He is now paying a round of paroch
ial visits, accompanied by an old college
chum, who is spending Christmas with
him.
"Yonder," said Treflry, pointing to I
thin thread of smoke which rose from