Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1883-12-25

been 30 lonesome, ADDy. Dut tneu hneH
you'd come for me all in good time. And.
Ban-how is Ben, Abby? Does he want
to see his old father again All, Ben was
q nice little boy-a nice little boy. But
Liz beth want no kind of a mother for
such high.strung lad. And then he hadn't
oughter married that sickly sort OF girl
that ran off an lett him. Sakes alive !!
what a temper she had It sort Of broke
Ben down living with her as long as he
did But he remembers his old father at
last, don't he? And he wants to have me
home to die. All, Ben has a good heart
after all !"
al must not tell him; 1 must not, "
whispered the woman as she listened.
Glitter to me as his deception is, must
let him remain in it" Then, with a sud-
| den brace of the nerves and visible effort,
she said
"Ben is away from home now, father.
He will not be there to meet you, but
you'll not mind that, | shell make you so
comfortable l want you at home during
the holidays"
| So he went out from the horror and
loneliness and gloom of the Poor house to
| the comfortable home which Filth had
provided for herself and child in the years
since she left Ben. Eva was a precocious
little maiden of now, wise and womanly
| beyond her years. So soon as Edith learned
of the old mans desolate fate she resolved
to bring him home. Eva could attend to
his wants during the day, while she was in
the school. room, and the interrupted
studies could be pursued in the evening
Or abe could hire assistance if he was as
troublesome as report had said. He had
been a harsh old man, and had helped
to widen the breach between her aad Ben.
But he was the father of the man she had
married, and she could not let him die in
the Poor-house. So she brought him
home.
Don't hear child's voice, he asked,
as Eva came dancing out to greet them.
"Who is it, Abby?
why it's your own little granddaugh-
ter. Eva" cried the child, clasping his
withered hand in her two soft palms.
Don't you remember me? Mamma says
you used to love me"
Eiith's heart stood still. Surely now he
would understand. And would he be
angry and harsh with her?
The old mans face lighted.
"Ah, see" he said, musingly. abby
and Ben must have taken the little one
home. 1t must be Edith is dead. She was
such a puny thing" Then turning his
face to the woman who was guiding his
faltering footsteps, he asked:
"And is Edith dead?"
"Yes," she answered quietly, Edith
is dead" And added ito you in whis-
per.
"He must never be undeceived," she
thought. 1t would be too severe blow;
the truth might kill him." And to Eva
she said, little later:
Dear, your grandfather is very i'll, and
not quite right in his mind. He thinks
my name is Abby, and you must not cor
rect him or dispute any strange thing he
may say"
The Journey left the old man very weak
indeed, but he talked almost constantly.
1T was SO good of you, Abby, to take
the little girl home, he would say. "Bnt
knowed you had good heart, and Ben,
too, He was fond of his old father, spite
of his rough ways. 1t was poorly lonesome
poorly lonesome, off there at that place
that Institute where you sent me. Some
folks said it was the Poor. house, but l
knew bet.er-I knew better. Ben and you
would never sent me there. l s'pose 1t
was a good place, but they had too many
patients. Sometimes | was cold and
hungry and all alone for hours and hours.
Oh, it's good to be back home with you
Abby-but why don't Ben Gomez"
Ben is away, father.
"On, yes, yes. Business, l suppose.
Ben II turn out all right at last. l
always thought so. After he sort o out.
~ Ruf I he
get back for Christmas. Somehox I've
been thinkin' lately bout the Christmas
days when Ben was a little boy. We allus
put something in his stockin' that night,
no matter if it twan't no more'n sweet
cake. Sakes alive how he priced things
he found in his stockin' Christmas morn
ms l got to thinkin' bout it all last
Christmas out at that there Institute, and
l Just laid an bawled like baby, | was
SO home-siok like. Seemed to me if could
Just see Ben's face again, I'd ask nothin'
more of Heaven. And now l think if l
can Just hear his voice again, it'll be
enough. Do you think he'll git home for
Christmas, Abby?"
81 hope go, dear father, but l cannot
tell" Edith answered softly, her heart
seeming to break in her breast as she list
ened.
She knew very well that Ben would not
90 across the street to see the father he had
deserted, and that she could never send for
him to come to her house to pay even a
last visit of mercy.
"What will | do-how can l explain to
him, when Christmas comes and Ben does
not appear" she thought.
But the way was shown her by that
Pescemaker who helps US out of all diff
culties at last
Christmas eve the old mans constant
chatter grew Eighty and incoherent. he
talked of people and things unknown to
Edith, and spoke his mothers name many
times. Then he fell asleep. In the morn.
ing he seemed very weak, and his voice
seemed fainter.
"Such a strange dream as | have had,
Liz BETH" he said, as Edith put her hand
on his brow, and smoothed back the thin,
white hair.
"Such strange dream. thought Ben
had grown into a man, and had left me
alone-all alone to die. Pm so glad to be
awake, and find it isn't true. How dark
it is, and how long the night seems! To-
morrow is Christmas. Did you put come
thing ia Ben's stockin', Liz beth? have
forgotten"
YES" answered Filth, in choked
voice.
And it's gettin' colder, 'L;zbeth.
Hadn't you better look after Ben a little.
See if he's covered up well in his crib
You're SO careless, 'Liz'beth, the boy'll
take his death O. cold yet. And he's all
I've got. He'll make fine man, fine
man if you don't spoil him, 'Lizbeth But
you hain't no real sense for trainin' boy,
somehow. Is he covered up! It's bitter,
bitter cold"
"He is we'll covered" Filth answered.
The old man seemed to d.zs again. Then
he reused little.
"Its dawn" he said. see the light
breaking. Little Ben II be crawling out
for his stockin' poorly quick; l oughter had
the fire made afore this, to warm his little