The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1881-01-06
Hsv n. Kept His Pre.iss-A Tr~s
Story.


~ @ssf IVY FfAAb+"~ hsN N~@' s~% -
care fnr your poor mother and little Alli
when am gone. oh. II eoaId only ss
one bright ray of hope 10 the future 'o
them; bn, all Ia dArknrss and gloom
Father, dear f.,hsr.-the boy who bose'
nj the bedside, very child in years am
sorrow, po~ drew his slender form TO Il
iail height his blue eyes flashing with
noble resolve, and bis whole face quiver
ing With emotion as be spoke.
! promi.e you. my father, that N,
mother and little sister shall be hrs, in al
my thoughts and plans for the future
that i will care for and shield them from
poverty as lies in my power TO do.
God bless You, my boy, and may ih'
Father Of the fatherless be your guide
through all the dark years TO come. Cal
your mother and little Allie now. for the
end Is very near.
Standing there in the little room with
the seen, Of tho roses stealing in at the
open window. Henry Hartly saw the gray
shadow OF death creep over the dear face
Of his father; heard the heart breaking
moans OF his mother and the piteous wall
Of his little sister; saw and heard it all,
without quiyer crossing his pale young
face, or tear dimming the brightness OF
his eye. He had wept and sobbed in
widest grief when told that his father
must die; but now the weight OF solemn
promise rested on his youthful shoulders,
holding back the expression OF childish
sorrow, and drying the fount Of his tears.
After the funeral was over and before
the sympathizing friends had dispersed to
their several homes, as Henry was passing
through the sitting room. the voice Of his
mothers sister reached him; she was say
ing to the lady who sat near her, and al
though her tones we're not too low to reach
and wound the heart OF the boy
How cold and unfeeling Henry is. Why.
he did not shed tear through it all.
Poor boy, the burden is making itself
felt very soon. and the Judgment OF the
world outside will not be more sparing
than hers.
One evening, a few days later, after lit
tie Allie had been put to bed, Henry and
his mother sat down with long list Of
debts and little pile of money (such
very little pile it seemed to them, and be-
gan for the first time to look the future
bravely in the face. After dividing the
money and laying the amount Of each bill
by ITSELF there was just s26. 05 remaining
Mrs. Hartley took it up, saying sadly:
Just sl.05 to begin with after paying
the interest due on the mortgage, and how
will We ever meet the principal? Oh,
Henry, it would kill me to he obliged to
leave my dear old home.
You never shall leave it, mother. said
Henry decidedly. / will take this money
in the morning, and pay Mr.. Howard's s
agent. He told me the other day that il
we paid the interest this year, Mr.. Howard
would give us more time on the principal.
Mr.. Barton has offered Inc place in his
store, for fathers sake, he says, and If am
good steady boy, he will do we'll by me-
Yes, said Mrs. Hartly, you have got
good place, and have the promise OF
three washings each week to begin with.
and Of course shall get more after awhile
but don't know what / shall do with AL. |
lie. cant take her around to the houses
with me when / go to wash, neither can l
leave her at hime.
Aunt Jen offered toSgive her home for
awhile, said Henry, a look Of pain coming
into his face, for he knew what an unlov-
ing home it would be for the petted baby
sister.
/ suppose i will have to let her go, there
is no other way. sighed Mrs. Hartly.
And so the little golden haired Allie was
sent to the harsh, unloving aunt, while
Mrs. Hsrtly took up her burden Of work,
and Henry went into Mr.. Barton's store
Almost two years rolled on in this mo-
round Of daily toll, with only oc-
casional glimpses Of sunshine brought in
10 their home by Allies visits which last
ID but few days al a time. These visits
occurred but rarely, however, for Aunt
len lived in distant city, and the expense
which attended these visits overtaXed
Mrs. Hartly's slender purse. The little
me always begged so hard to remain at ,
nome, and clung to mother and Henry SO ,
oitifully that she left aching hearts be- :
lind when she returned TO Aunt Jens. a
But what Of Henry and his promise' q
He is receiving good wages at Mr. Bar 4
on's, and earns considerable besides at |
i'd spells. Surely his mother ought by |
his time to give up such hard work and
Iecp little Allie at home. This neighbors |
md friends Of the family shake their /
reads, and looking very wise, whisper in 6
.aeh Others cars that there is something I
wrong with Henry. u
Never to my knowledge, said Mrs. Blake 8
n confidential tone 10 Mrs. Thorn, lean i
ng over the partition fence ~ she spoke, y
lever once since his fathers death has he I
,iven one dollar TO help his mother along. u
,he almos, the same as owned il up to me,
lot quite, though, she's so proud; but ! I
an see that it worries her to know what C
10 does with the money. o
It's rather strange, replied Mrs. Thorn.
I he doesn't help his mother, what does I
70 do with his money! I'm sure it isn't v
pent on himself; one could almost believe a
10 had worn that same suit Of clothes {
inco his fathers death. thought OF course &
10 hasn't, for he would have outgrown a
hem. but Ill Warrant no one can toll l d