The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1882-10-25

then I'll go home" And Sim shufied
off, while the crowd fingered, glad Of
an opportunity to talk over his good
fortune without the embarrassment of
his presence.
AS he drew near his own gate Sim
saw that group Of neighbors was
| gathered around it. Had the news of
his good fortune reached them so soon
and had they come to rejoice with him
Sim liked sympathy, but just now,
until the first flush Of his Joy was over,
he felt that he would rather be alone.
But the neighbors fell into the back
ground as he drew near, and disclosed
a stranger-a worn and haggard-look-
ing woman, who, with two little girls
clinging to her skirts, leaned against
! the fence.
Sim looked at her with no sign of
recognition in his face. But she raised
her sad and heavy eyes to his, and said,
appealingly: "He's dead, and he told
me to come to you. L didn't want to,
and I've been tryin' for more'n a year
to get along, but L fell sick,
and l couldn't see my children starve.
I've had hard time, Sim. He didn't
treat me very well, particularly after
he took to drinking; but he had hard
luck, poor fellow; everything seemed
to go against him. If you'll take me
and the children in we sha'n't cost you
much. l sha'n't last a great while,
but can work some; you know used
to stitch Shoes"
"YOu can't never in this livin' world
be Cynthy Jane?" said Sim, tremu-
lously.
Eyes, am, It's no wonder that
you don't know me-" said the woman,
sadly. 81 used to be so bloomin', and
now I'm nothin' but a shadder."
L do know you, Cynthy Jane. I
know your voice and your eyes, but l
kind of didn't want to believe twas
you loollin' so pindlin'."
He smoothed back the children's
hair from their foreheads and scrutin-
lied their faces gravely. Then he
marshaled the little group before him
into the house.
1t was a dreary and sparsely fur
nished little place. The emptiness and
dreariness struck Sim as never before,
but vine nodded at the window, and
it was cool and quiet. The woman
sank down on the hard little lounge
with long sigh Of relief, but the
children cried out, in their pathetic
voices, that they were hungry.
Sim was filled with shame and dis
tress. A very few dry crusts were all
that his larder afforded. Dan Win
gate had been fishing, and he had in
tended to drop in upon Dan upon
some errand that would serve as an
excuse at about the time when Dams
fry would be likely to be done to a
turn. He had made no preparations
whatever to "set his own pot a-bilin'"
that day. He was rubbing his fore
head with his bandana in direst per-
pleXity, when, moved, as it seemed to
Sim, by some indirect interposition of
Providence, Mrs. Timberly, the wife of
the .well-to-do blacksmith who lived
next door, appeared, bearing a dish Of
soup, from which was waited an appe-
tizing odor, and loaf of bread of
goodly size. And following in her
wake came other neighbors bringing
eatables, until Sims table groaned
under such a burden as it had never
known before.
"YOp see we thought you might
not be prepared for company, being a
single man." explained Mrs. Timber
ley, "and, besides, we felt as if we
wanted to do something to welcome
Cynthy Jane back"
Sim was glad and thankful that his
guests were provided with food, but
every mouthful that he tried to eat
seemed to choke him. He remembered
that yesterday he could have eaten his
neighbors' food without shame but
then Cynthy Jane was not there to
see.
"It's the last meal they shall ever
have by the charity Of the neighbors,
if steppin' round lively can fetch
anything to pass" said Sim to him
self.
And as soon as the dinner was
eaten he went down to Sam Ellis
shop. Sam Ellis was the shoemaker,
and he always had more work than he
could do. He had offered Sim a great
many jobs, which he had declined.
When he asked, with great eagerness,
for job, Sam Ellis looked amazed.
"Why, they've been tellin' that your
chance had come along, that you was
goin' to Californy to make your for
tune" he said,
Sim turned away his head and looked
out of the window. With the beckOn-
ing finger of his chance lifted above
the "stiddy days works" which he
saw stretching before him in a dreary
monotony which his soul abhorred,
Turing him to change of scene and ad-
venture, and to fortune which should
drop into his hands like mama from
heaven, as he had always dreamed it