Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1879-12-04
could not dispose even of her slender in

could not dispose even of her slender in
come.
But would he not be persuaded to let her
have enough of her own money to accom-
plish her desirei
She asked him, using her utmost power
of persuasion to touch his heart, but he re-
fused with peremptory decision,
Susie had IN the world one treasure, a
diamond ring, which had been her mothers, $,
with stone white and clear rs n dewdrop.
This must, she knew, be worth hundreds.
Ii was her own.
She had meant to keep il all her life for
her mothers sake, but surely this great
need of George Graham's justified her in
parting with It,
She had one friend in whose good faith
| and judicious management she felt implicit
| confidence and to him she sent her mother
| ring, with the request that he would sell il
rs speedily and on rs good terms as possible,
and remit her the price Of il in bank notes,
and keep for her the secret that she had
! disposed of it.
1t was Il week after George Graham had
given up hope, when most unexpected
hone came to him.
\ neighbor, going by from the post office,
handed in at the door n letter addressed to
| him. Mrs. Graham opened il.
George" :" she cried, after n moment. in
an eager, trembling voice, "here are one
hundred dollars, and this Is the letter that
comes with them
This money is from a true friend Of
George Graham'S, and is 10 be applied to
taking him To an oculist, in the hope that
his sight may he restored. The giver with
holds his name, both because he desires no
thanks, and because he wishes to make the
return of the money impossible.
at is from Heaven itself, the mother
cried. George, | feel in my soul that
you are TO be cured.
The next day a mother and her blind
son sought rooms at a quiet little house in
the city, and the day after that they were
among the earliest patients of Doctor An
nesly.
The first examination of Georges eyes
was unpromising enough, and the doctor
wanted to see him daily.
There were weary days and weeks that
| followed. and it was curious that the mo-
ther was always hopeful, and the son
always despairing.
At last il almost irritated him 10 hear her
speak of hope TO him, and one day he turn
! ed on her with the first burst of passionate
impatiencc she had ever experienced from
him.
Mother" he said, ''for the love of
| Heaven do not talk to me as il it was a
sure thing that l am going to see again.
| | want TO think it doubtful, almost impoS-
sible If you should make me expect a
sure cure, and then il shouldn't come, don't
you see that should go made | think l
should dash my head against the wall. l
can only live by expecting nothing"
After that the mother held her peace,
but whenever she went out of that darkened
room those who saw her marveled at the
light of Joy in her eyes.
At last the time came; the bandag was
removed, there was just one wild cry
''Mother, see you!" and then George
lay at the doctors feet, swooning in his
great joy.
1t was weeks yet before he went home
again, but the good news preceded him,
The mother wrote to Solomon Grant,
who had agreed still to Keep the place open
AvhiIe awaiting the result of the experiment.
Solomon read the letter in fall family
conclave.
He little knew how his niece longed to
snatch the paper from his hand and read it
! for herself; nor did he heed the tears that
swan in her dark eyes, tears of such deep,
unselfish Joy as only a loving woman knows.
Another letter came afterwards to tell
when the widow and her son were 10 re-
| turn.
1t was Susie who walked over early in
the afternoon, carrying with her a basket of
dainties for the travellers supper.
Susie's black eyes danced, and her heart
sang within her as she set the table in the
little parlor and lighted fire in the kitchen
stove, ready to make a fresh cup Of tea
whenever the widow aid her son should
arrive
And at last the travellers came, as at last
everything does come, if we wait long
enough for it.
They had expected to find an empty
house; they found instead warmth, and
brightness, and good cheer, and Susie Hale
Had George Graham grown through his
trial into a mans perception of girls
charms, or had his eyes been holden before,
that he should not see9
only know that that night, for the first
time in his life, it dawned upon him that
another woman might some day dispute with
his mother the empire of his heart
But it was not until five years afterwards,
when Mr.. Grant had taken him into part
nership, and Mr. Grants niece, SUSIE had
become his wife, that George Graham ever
guessed from whose tender hands had come
the gift by means of which he had been re
stored to hope and happiness.
The Farmer, the Gunner, and the Birds