Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1882-09-16
His Mothers Story
CHAPTER I.
BY JOHN GRAY.

utilizing, appealing tones OF her
pathetic voice, that | had forgotten
my boy. As the song ended, / turn
ed to look for him with a pang of
self-reproach, but he was still sit
ting where had left him, his broad
back towards me.
An underlined something in his
attitude seemed to tell me that he
was troubled or i'll at ease, so |
threaded my way through the little
knots of people-slowly, SO as not to
attract attention. Standing close
to hin were young man and a girl,
neither of whom l knew. | paused
when within a few feet of the boys
chair, aud listened to their CONVEX
sation.
Eyes the girl was saying; ST. ere
is nothing on earth more sad. l
would raher be deformed-a cripple,
deaf and dumb-than blind. Oh,
| think | would rather die than lose
my sight!'
81 almost think | would, too,"
answered her companion. "What
would thee be to live for, shut out
from work and pleasure alike And
the bitterest pain Of all would be,
not only toknow you were of no use
ID the world, but feel that, however
they might attempt to disguise it,
you were a burden and continual
anxiety to those 20 u"
He had caught my eye and broke
off abruptly, his face assuming an
expression Of establishment as he re-
allied that l was signing to him to
follow me. He came, however, and
| led the way until | was sure that
our words could not reach my boys
sharp years; then | said:
II am sure you cannot be aware
that the gentleman near whom you
were standing is blind ?"
He gave hasty glance in that
direction, then turned dismayed
look on me.
mot really, is he ?" May you
not be mistaken ?''
"Mistaken He is my son !"
"By J0ve l am sorry How
could | dream-here-what a brute
you must think me! | would not
have said what | did for worlds ~
He was so thoroughly in earnest,
and looked so penitent, that | held
out my hand to him.
clam sure you would not. | quite
acQuit you of any desire to wound.
In return you must pardon me for in
terrupting your conversation.
Here l bowed and half turned
away, while he, taking the hint, re-
turned the inclination and with
drew. But before | had moved a
step from the spot he was back with
our hostess. Mrs. Duke, who per
formed the ceremony of introduce
ton.
Directly after we were exchanging
commonplace; and before long |
had introduced him to Philip, who,
/ saw plainly, recognized his voice
in an instant.
The young man was evidently
anxious to efface the recollection of
his unfortunate words from my
sons mind, and he stroYe so effectu-
ally that the poor boys face cleared
up as he listened. He described or
quizZed almost every one in the
room
Il seem to see them ALL" said
Philip, presently; "but | think there
is one you have not mentiOned-Miss
Carroll, who was singing a little
while ago"
miss CARROLL" he repeated with
a slight hesitancy. at is difficult to
say anything good enough Of her.
She is fair, and very sweet looking;
her face, her figure, and her express
sion are all beautiful"
$50 is her voice" said Philip, and
became silent.
"Talk of the angels" said Mr..
Vores; and turning, found Phoebe
Carroll at my elbow.
II am going, she said, giving her
hand first to me and then to each of
the young men. Mamma is tired
1t has been a delightful evening to
me-"
"And to me-" said Philip, quietly.
THAT song of yours alone would
have made it so.
II thought you knew how | dis
liked pretty speeches, Mr.. Muller"
she said, coloring family. "But
mamma is looking for me; good
night"
ave, too, must go, Philip" l
said, knowing that this sort of even
ing was apt to weary him.
GOOD night" he said, shaking
hands with our new acquaintance,
II wish you would come in and see
me some day, when you are in our
direction"
THAT l will. You live
"Here is the address" and l hand
ed him a card: and then | guided