Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1881-08-04

Don't you see? The old party mt the
back of the two fat women i'll the red
shawls. She's haranguing Jones now.
Il see, said |. 1t was little old
woman in black silk poke-bonnet, re-
spectacle cloth cloak, bordered with an
cient fur, and long green veil, who was
earnestly talking and gesticulating with
the conductor. But he shook his head
and passed on, and she sank back in n
helpless little heap behind the green
veil, and l could see her take small
handkerchief from small basket and
put it piteously to her eyes.
Its too bad, said l. "Jones might
remember that he once had-if he hasn't I
got nova mother of his own"
"And lose his place on the road, said
Mills, "No, no, old fellow, all that
sort of thing does very well to talk about,
but it don't work in real life"
So he went into the next car, and the
signal to slack up came presently. l
turned to Mr.. Jones, the conductor, who
just then stepped out on the platform.
"Is it for that old lady?" said |. He
answered, "'Yes." Said l, How far did
she want to go?" "To Swampscott, "
said he.
you needn't stop, Mr.. Jones" said
I, 'I'll pay her fare"
"You!" he echoed.
eyes, l." said l. "Ill take her to my
own house, until she can telegraph to
her friends or something. My wife will
be good to her, know, for the sake of
her own old mother out West"
Just as you please" said Mr.. Jones,
"But when you've been on the road rs
long as l have, you'll find that this sort
of thing doesn't answer"
81 hope shall never be on the road
too long to forget my Christian charity, "
L answered, little nettled. And / took
out my worn pocket-book and handed
over the money.
We did not stop at Stumpville Station
after all, but put on more steam and ran
as fast as it was safe to drive our engine
and when, a little past midnight, we
reached Swampscott, where we were due
at 80, Pierre Rene, the Frenchman,
came on board to relieve me, and l help
ed my old lady off the train, flat basket,
travelling bag and all.
cam to be put off after ALP" said she.
with scared look around her.
"Cheer up, ma'am," said I, "You are
all right. Now, then-look out for the
step! Here ~S-cse' "a. . -,
"At Swampscott, ma'am," said L.
"And you are the kind man who paid
nv fare?" said she. "But my daughter
and her husband will repay you when"
"All right, ma'am, said l. "And now,
if you'll just take my arm, we'll be home
in quarter of an hour"
But" said she, ''why can't L go di-
rectly to my destinations"
''Its middling late, ma'am, said |.
"And houses don't stand shoulder to
shoulder in Swampscott. My nearest
neighbor is mile and a-half away. But
never fear, ma am, I've wife that will
be glad to bid you welcome for the sake
of her own mother"
She murmured few words of thanks,
but she was old and weary, and the path
was rough and uneven, in the very teeth
of the keen November blast-and walk
ing wasn't an easy task. And presently,
we came to the little cottage on the edge
of the Swampscott woods, where the
light glowed warmly through the Turkey
red curtains.
"Oh, Mark, dearest, how late you are?"
cried Kate, making haste to open the
door. "Come in, quick, out of the
wind. Supper is all ready, and-but who
is that with you?"
In hurried whisper told her ALL
''Did I do right, Katie? ?" said I.
"Rightl OF coure you did," said she.
"Ask her to come in at once. And I'll
put another cup and saucer on the table. "
Tenderly I assisted the chilled and
weary old lady across the threshold.
"Here's my wife," said I. "And
here's a cup of smoking hot coffee and
some of Katie's own biscuits and chicken
pie! You'll be all right when the cold
is out of your joints bitp'
"You are very, very welcome" said
Kate, brightly, as she advanced to unite
our visitors veil and loosen the folds of
her cloak. But, all of sudden, 1 heard
a cry, "Mother, oh, mother!'
And looking around, saw Kate and
the old lady clasped in each others arms.
"Hold ON, Kate" said l, with the
coffee-pot still in my hand, as had been
lifting it from the fire. ''This is never"
''But it is, Mark!' cried out Kate,
breathlessly. cts mother; my own
mother Oh, help me, dearest, quickly;
she has tainted away!"
But she was all right again, presently,
sitting by the fire with her feet on one of
the warm cushions, which Kate had knit
on wooden needles, and drinking hot
coffee. 1t was all true. The unfortunate
passenger whose pocket had been picked
on the train, and to whose rescue / had
come, was no other than my Kate's own
mother, who had determined to risk the
perils of journey to the far West to see
her child once again.
And she has been with us ever since