, 1880-09-20
The Lost LinCh-pin.

Its no use, Susy, we can't find it.
I'll Just have to take the whipping"
There was detected thrill in the sad
ehild-voice, telling alike of physical
dread and of utter hopelessness Of
spirit.
Wait minute, Robbie" answered
cheerier tone. "Wait until I look
under the hay-bed. A Inch pins little
you know, and it might roll. can't
bear to give up yet" Ard as the girl
spoke, she swung her lantern under the
huge vehicle, and STOPPING, began to
search carefully among The loose chaff
and wisps of hay scattered over the
floor.
The scene was the threshing floor Of
large barn, with great mows frowning
darkly above On either hand, and vast
granarles stret ching away in the rear,
and the speakers were poor little or
phan boy who had lost Inch pin, and
the sympathetic kitchen girl of the
farm. As the latter rose from her
fruitless search the bright glow of the
lanie-l fell full upon her, revealing a
face-uot pretty, certainly, if viewed
from d cultivated artistic standpoint,
but tresA anl girlish, and just now
gloritied by soft halo of womanly
pity.
9 o Robbie! I'm so sorry" she said,
rising. "Caut you think where You
had it last %
"No, Sue. can't. I've tried and
tried. reckon old Beeson will nearly
Kill nle-he did last time" Then with
3 shud9er, throwing his childish arms
around her waist, so, Sue, hes aw-
fuli'
Sc Poor baby!' cried the girl clasp,
ing him closer, while her soft gray eyes
filled with tears. 81 wish I could
save you. How did you ever come to
be left with him, anyhow"
$ Wing, you see,' was the reply.
"when mother died there was only re
and Chris, and Chris. amt like me.
Hes strong, and smart, and afraid of
nobody. So he thought he would go
away and make fortune for us both.
His name is Christopher-like Christie
pher Columbus you know-and he
meant 10 do some great thing too. Not
in 4 ship though, but in the big city.
He mad read of poor boys making
money there, and as the homestead was
gone he was bound to try it. And then
old Beeson offered to keep me while he
vas away. But Chris. never meant for
me to De abused. | heard him say that
l Was TO go to school and be well
treated, and that he would pay fer my
board and expenses when he came
back. But reckon he'll never come
now" And the poor child tears fell
fast at the thought.
"Oh, maybe he willr' answered the
girl. soothingly. Wen hope SO. any
way"
well, maybe" he asseRted dreari-
iy. But, o Sue, if | were only Of
age, ike you, wouldn't I go to seek
him?' Then, as with sudden thought,
"Sue, what makes you stay. You were
of age six months ago."
" know, she said, and paused as if
the question was an unsettled one with
herself; then, with the light still upon
her brow, Partly for your sake. may
be, Robbie, and partly because don't
know where to go. l don't mind work
ing. and must do that in any place.
Besides it is better for me; I'm in the
house with Missis, and Robbie, she
AoA- 141AO hlAA' 4hnGy p1CCo VI UItaO
and meat she gives to the hungry beg
gars, and many poor tramp she al
lows to sleep in the barn when he ain
round"
The last clause was unfortunate, for
the boy clinging yet closer, cast
shuddering glance upward toward the
great mows where the shadows were
scarcely disturbed by their feeble glow
of light.
"Oh, Sue!' he cried wildly.
"What if he should make me stay all
night in the barn? He has threatened
to many time. Anyway he is going
to horsewhip me. O Sue, Sue, what
can we do p
The poor, excited child sank down
in despair.
"We might pray, said Sue, timitily.
Pshaw! He prays."
There was whole volume of incipi-
ent scepticism in these three bitter
words.
know" answered Faith, sorely
puzzled, yet clinging to her anchor.