The Republican journal., 1883-04-26

BY ADA CARLETON sToDDARD.

Barry.
BY ADA CARLETON STODDARD.
Miss Abigail Burr was a little brown
old maid, who lived in little brown old
house with her cat, Debby, and her wo-
man ll-work, Prudence, = sharp of
tongue, long of visage, broWner and old /
er than the mistress herself There was
nothing of grace, nor beauty, nor sweet
ness about Miss Abigail's life everything
was dry, and hard and husky. Indeed,
some people were so uDcharitable as to
say that her heart was like a very much
dried-up kernal in nut shell, and would
rattle if she were to be shaken hard
enough. But never quite believed that
! always said there was soft spot in
! Miss Abigaifs heart, to be found when
the time me to find it.
one spring twilight a boy opened Miss
/ Ahigails gardens gate and walked up the
/ path between the rows Of struggling IL
4 lacs. lie was not boy who lived about
CaperstoWn, or be would not have dared
/ venture, ! am sure for Prudence's sake,
I besides having nothing to venture for.
He was an unkempt, starved looking lit
/ tie specimen of humanity. His coat was
a world too long, and patched at the ell
bows; and his trousers were a world too
short, and patched at the knees. His
hat was guiltless of brim. and through a
hole in the crown bobbed a little tuft of
hair which had once been brown, but
was now WOfuly faded. lie went straight
up to Miss Abigail's porch steps. Miss
Abigail was sitting on the porch in her
high backed rocking chair. so intent on
binding off her stocking heel that she
heard neither the click Of the gate latch
nor the footsteps on the hard trodden
path; and she did not look up until the
| boys figure interposed itself between her
work and the fading sunset lights.
He dotfed his tattered hat crown.
"If you please ma'am, will you-may
| have something to eat p
II was not at all tramp's manner of
asking; there was manlness in the
voice which Miss Abigail could not help
but notice. Perhaps that was the reason
She looked at the boy sharply for mo-
ment before She answered. In that mo-
mrnt, Prudence. tall and angular, stood
in the door, with shawl thrown over
her head and her right hand swatbed
with soft cotton.
'I'll have to Git Jonas Barrows' man to
do the milkin', Miss Abigail" said she
II can't. Eve burnt my hand that bad"
The boy looked up quickly, "Can't ~
could milk for YOU p
As have intimatad, Prudence did not
like boys and that she sometimes ex-
pressed her dislike in very forcible
manner many Of the village urchins
could testify. Now, she surveyed this
boy, standing by the porch steps, from
head, not forgetting the faded little tutt,
in dumb astonishment.
"lou might let him bY, Prudence" !"
said Miss Abigail thinking rather du-
bOusly of the nervous, mouse colOred
Alderney in the yard.
Il chored on a farm all last summer ;"
explained the boy eagerly, glancing from
mistress to maid. IL want some supper.
and III be glad to do something to pay
for it,"
"'Well, you kin try it" said Prudence,
after momentary deliberation. ''It's
bettern beggin' favor, anyhow"
She led the way to the kitchen, and
took shining tin pail from the dresser
''liere's the miIk-pail," said she to the
boy, who stood waiting ''an' the cows
in the yard y0nder. Pay day comes when
the works done"
And Prudence smiled grmly, as she
went about setting out a lunch of bread
and butter and cold meat She felt NOR
ally certain that the flighty Alderney
heiter, used only to woman kind, would
be much more likely to spread a pair of
bovine wings and fly away, than allow
| herself to be mlked by a boy.
'lle can't do it," she said to Miss
Abigail, who presently brought her knit
ting work into the kitchen. "The heif-
er'll send him sky high"
But he could and he did Soon he
appeared in the doorway, his pai! brim-
ming with snowy foam
'Well, never" calculated Prudence
''Iou didn't think could p said the
boy, smiling brightly.
"Nc, didn't" admitted Prudence :
and straightway, in her astonshment
she added to his fare, segment of rhu
barb pie.
"Wasnt there bit of cheese left from
tea 2" asked Miss Abigail.
Prudence thought there was and while
she was fetching it from the cellar, the
boy gave himself healthy scrubbing at
the pump, coming in from his abIutions
fresh and rnddy as a rose.
He was very hungry; there was no
doubt Of that. He looked at Miss Abb
gail with deprecating smile, as Pru-
dence carried off the bread plate for a
third replenishng.
'I'm pretty hungry" said he. This
is the first bite I've had since morning,
and it tastes good"
To be sure it did, poor soul. Miss Abi-
gail thought Of little brother, who died
years and years before, ere his tender
feet began to feel the pricks in ife's path
How strange that the sight of this little
Vagrant satisfying bis craving at her
Kitchen table, should bring to her remem-
brance the child who had so early put off
! the mortal for the immortal
Presently, when the boy had finished
his rcpast, he laid his knife and fork
across bis plate with a methodical pre-
cision which it pleased Miss Abigail to
see; and then he glanced from Prudence
standing near with her arms akimbo. TO
Miss Abigail.
THANK sou for my supper" said he.
Maybe I'd best be getting along You
don't want boy to work, do you?"
"a boy-to work :" echoed Prudence.
''Did | eyerw
mo, we DON'T" said Miss Abigail,
shortly. And then - it was strange
enough that she could not help thinking
again of that frail little life which had
blighted in the bud so long before.
How far are you going ~ she asked.
II don't know, maam.'
'And where have you come from ?"
proceeded Miss Abigail
"Trescott, ma'am. Mother died there
three months ago. There was pathet-
ir quaver in his voice.
And then, with little questioning, he
told his simple story. His name was
Barry Olmstead, and he was twelve years
old. He had lived in Trescott a long
time, he and his mother they were very
poor, but they had kept little home to-
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