The daily dispatch. [volume] (Richmond [Va.]) 1850-1884, 1879-11-14
s. rIe rs,,s spe bc,l: g red., .ake this hex,

= I = !, 49,. " e
That Tbat afternoon John Ashurst sat In his
Office wytt;ag, when he heard q stealtby
starY t,ass Ills window followed 10y the rus.
Ting Of leaves. II It's that plagued refgbhorss
children,s be said, exeltedly. g They're q,
INV cherries agatn."
"A Few hasty strides brought him to tne
tree. where b boy was scrambling down,
e You young scoundrei u exclaimed Jonn
Ashurst; !, "I,ye caught you now, and I'm
going to take you straight In to you!
mother. Don't belong there? None o,
your tricks. Come, march aiopg' anu
we shall see where you belong.
Dragging the cuIprit along, john 1A sl1 Is
rang his neighbours dooreDeli.
ono trespassing allowed - screatheo TUG
Darrot iE is uncarthiV tones. 80.
John Ashurst was very angry. io nase
his warning cast into bis teeth oy this ugly
green bird was not pleasant.
itI want to see the lady," hesald, curtiy'
TO the servant who opened the door.
eyes, sir. Will you walk INTO tne
parlor ?"
.wi,l you walk into my parlor ."
SAID the spider to the ny;
It's the prettiest little parior
That ever you did spy.
Tn spitc OF bis anger, John Ashurst said
this 10 himself as he glanced about the
dainty room, such q room Us he had not
seen Tor many years. There was no dlsor-
der. neither was there Ia his own stl1 par,
Tor next door, but the air OF comfort ana
siunnle elegance was something unattalnap'e
by all the rules OF arrangement be knew
John Ashurst was critical man. when nc
was Younger he. had been called artistic
Insensibly his mood melted. On little
table stood vase OF lilies-of-the-Yailey.
ON the. wall in water-colors liltes.of-the'
valley. On bracket in waX-Work were
lilies. of-the. valley. They were howers he
had avoided for years, for they stirred q
memory Of bis lost youth. NOW mere
flashed upon him a memory OF ms own
room wears ago, with liIies.of-the-Va!ley on
on table, bracket, and q all, and their subtle
fragrance recalled the perfume of flowers
worn in a woman's hair above the sweetest
face he ever knew.
The door opened and lady entered, foi-
lowed by two BOYS and little girl. rs.
81 ain glad to see thee" was the gra'
cious reply given ttis ungraclous man.
"Thou art our neighbor, l am told. Wit
thou be seated?"
John Ashurst was almost poWerless TO
sneak. Years ago this quaint quaker
speecb had thrilled him as no other speech
had done, and he had dreamed OF lifetime
with such music 10 his ears.
eIbeg your pardon" he said in con.
fused, hesitating way; 81 have brought
your boy home"
"Not much &" exclaimed one OF the boys
in the rear OF the beautiful woman, for John
Ashurst said to himself that she was beauti-
full.
The mother gave the boy look Of smiling
reprooi as she said: "Thou hast made
mistake. l have only these three children
and their baby brother, who is asleep"
"Told him Ididn't b'long here, but he
wouldn't b'lieve me-" exclaimed the boy,
sullcniy.
II beg your PARDON" said John Ashurst,
with deep humility; 81 am afraid l have
wropged your boys-and you," he added,
still more humbly, thinking OF the note ne
had indited that morning.
"Do not mention it," said the lady, po-
litely. "I am fearful we baye disturbed
thee. Thou art aware we had great grief
bad allowed my children to nave what
ever pets they CHOOSE, and amuse them
selves in every innocent way, that their
minds might be diverted from their great
loss"
John Ashurst's face was sympathetic, and
troubled, too; for he was thinking OF bis
note. GA heartIess thing under the cir
cumstances,n be said to himself. Had Fred
forgotten to: deliver it? That were .
lucky slip Of the memory, he thought.
The sWeetfaced, sweet-voiced Quakeress
continued: "My baby has been very Ill
have been obliged to keep on this side Of
the house, rs it is cooler. When he is be-.
ter shall change my nursery"
John Ashurst's face fell. After all, she
had read bis note. ssI beg your pardon
lie said, with real trouble in his tone. 81
did not know your baby was i'll. l beg
YOU will not change on my account. was
mistaken about the boy "-turning to see
that the urchin had made his escape. "]
may have made other mistakes. Perhaps
they were not your chickens. 1t may have
been some other persons dog"
e.Chickensf Dog?" asked the lady, in .
puzzled way. ssI do not understand"
John Ashurst's face frightened. She hao
not received his note. ''It does not signify
he replied, carelessly. q thought yor
might have heard complaints about your
chickens or dog-from-my cook--or my
nephew-or somebody" he said desperate
ly. ;;
"The cook has been extremely kind
answered the lady. 1--WE were obliged K
borrow some brandy one day when tn
baby was very i'll, and we could not get a
ours in the confusion incdent7to moving
The nephew has won the beart OF my boy!
bv teaching them how to shoot arrows, ant
Lucy-thisi little eirl-and thy nephew ar
great friends. My children were puzzled
about the sign-board in thy hedge, but tn
nephew told them it was to warn Of
tramps. ~ '1-'--'
uHe is a good boy. Fred. is an uncom
monty good young man." exclaimed JohI
Ashurst, ferventiy. His failure to deliver
that note was mark Of superior judgment
he thought.
The servant entered. 81 hope you viii
excuse me-" she said, addressing her mis-
tress but q note was LETT this morning, ant
as you were getting the baby to sleep
did not disturb YOU"
john .AshursJ stepped forward eagerly
clam the writer OF that note," he said
extending his hand. GAS have come my
self, it viii be quite unnecessary for You tc
read it. can do my errand without tax
ing your patience to read my illegible
writing.
Certainly" answered the unsuspectiDg
Quakeress, ssThou art very kind tc
trouble myself about us.'
John Ashurst thought OF himself Hypo
critic" and yet he was glad, glad as if ht
had seen an enemy in the act OF applying
match to gunpoWder and suddenly d!
found himself in possession OF match ane
gunpowder. What should he say, for TIT
Quakeress was looking iu:an expectant way