The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-06-19

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the boys lips he tossed him one. Then
he ran down the office-steps humming
again the tune that had haunted him
that morning. He looked so pleasant
as he stood at the street corner waiting
for his car that a ragged little girl who
saw him ventured to ask:
"Please, mister, what is them
posiesp"
"Apple blossoms
"Does they grow on the trees that
has apples onP"
eyes"
"Oh, my! wouldn't like to see 'em
once! Say, mister, would ye give me a
little onep''
eyes. Here, child," breaking off
another little branch and giving it to
her. He watched her from the car win
dow take off her old hat and stow away
her treasure in that, and then, clasping
it close to her breast, set off on a run
down toward the lower part of the city
When he reached his home and gave
the branch to his wife her faded, peev-
ish face relaxed into a smile that was
almost sweet as she took them from his
hand.
"Apple blossoms!" she said. "How
beautiful they are! Do you remember,
Daniel, the apple blossoms that we
gathered thirty years ago?" and in an
other minute he and she together were
recalling old times and associations, I'M
til the years that lay between their APP
ple-blossom times and now had dropped
away, and the light and glory of past
days once more shed itself upon the
gray hairs of the husband and the faded
cheek of the wife.
The ragged little girl meanwhile ran
on for quite a little way till she came to
one of those narrow, filthy courts crowd
| ed with tenement houses and steaming
with horrible odors in the warm Nav
sunshine. She entered one of these
tenement houses and ran lightly up the
steps to her especial domain, little
room where, besides herself, only Biddy
Mccarthy with her husband and baby
lived. Biddy was sitting near the win
dow rocking the baby in her arms when
the child entered.
Whisht, Meg! The baby's awful
sick!"
"Don't he get any better, BiddyP"
asked Meg, creeping softly to her side.
"No, he don't. Oh, if I only had
him home in the green fields of ould
Ireland he'd be well entirely; but how
can he breathe in this shifting roomP"
"Look here, Biddy. See what I've
got" And Meg took off her hat and
showed the precious spray of apple
blossoms. ado We think that came
from the green fields We spoke about?"
Biddy gazed at it in wonder and de-
light. "Oh, the purity things!" she ex-
claimed. "It's just the picture of those
I've seen many's the time growing in
the orchards in the ould country. Le'
me take it, Meg"
She held it close to her face and drank
in the fresh. sweet perfume eagerly.
Then she put it down to the baby, and
he feebly smiled.
"See!" cried Biddy. "He knows
the swate things! He'll get better now.
Take it away and put it in water, Meg,
and set it where he can see it.''
Meg ran off and soon returned with an
old backing bottle full of water, into
which she stuck the precious twig.
Then she sat down to look at it and
listen to Biddy's tales of the could
country" till night came, and she had
to go to bed, but she slept with one
hand on the bottle in which her treasure
was.
About midnight she was reused from
strange dreams of great forests of beau
tiful posies like hers by a shrill cry of
terror and agony.
She started up calling "Biddy!
Biddy! what is it?" and was answered
by the cry, "Oh, my baby, my baby!
My baby's dead" and the low moan of
anguish from the stricken mother. She
did the best she could to comfort her,
but what could child do for a broken
heart?
The next day the body was ready for
the funeral. The mother sat on the
floor beside the little pine coffin in stony
despair when Meg crept softly up and
laid her cherished branch, now reduced
to two faded blossoms and one Just
bursting pink bud, in the baby's hand.
Biddy looked up and burst into tears.
"God bless you, Meg" she sobbed.
"Shure, there's lots of blossoms where
he is now, the darlint, but it's / that's
glad to see these purity posies in his
little hand. Oh, my baby! my baby!'
Mr.. Edison, for his part, went down
to his brothers. Office and entered with
a little hesitation. The brother, a man
older than Edison, with one of those
stern, self-repressed faces which say as
plainly as words could, give had a
hard life and don't care cent about
you. I'll have what 1 can get, whether
you suffer or not" started as Edison
came in. His eyes rested an instant
longingly on the apple-blossoms but
the next moment he drew back, asking,
coldly, "Did you wish to see me?"
Yes, George" answered Edison,
lingering the flowers awkwardly, 81
came to see about that matter-that-
that property, you know. It's pity
we should quarrel about it and-and-
well, l don't care. You're the oldest
and had the hardest row to hoe always,
and guess likely there was fully nv
share spent on me when 1 was in col
lege; and see here, old fellow, I'll do
whatever you say if you'll speak to
your lawyer and send him up to my
office"
There was moments silence, and
the younger Edison, looking down, saw
L