The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1883-09-29

been by mere revulsion of feeling that it
looked so horrible to him. Was there no
way of escapei Must everybody know
that he was theft He looked pitif1lIy
at the money he drew from his booklet
thirty cents-and felta vague wonder
that his hair had not turned white. Ask
Aunt Melissa? That would be useless. Tell
his fathers That one thing that was DOS
sible, was of all others the most IMPOSSIBLE
Look which way he would there was no
chance of escape. Worse than the scorn Of
the fellows, the sorrow and indignation of
the teachers, the grief of mother and Rose,
even the knowing that his name would be
in every ones mouth in shameful notoriety.
was what-what father would thinki At
the very thought of the look that would
come into the kind, pleasant eyes, Bobby
felt that all his manhood--or what he
thought his manhood-wouldfie flee from him.
and he should burst into tears. His life
seemed to him at an end. There was but
one thing for him to do, and the resolution
he came to was accompanied by such an
guish as, boy or man, he might never know
again.
He opened his upper bureau drawer and
took out, one by one, his choicest trea-
sures. A watch that would not go, but
which its owner kept in affectionate re-
u. a.
stylographic pen with the ink reservoir ex-
hausted; battered photograph of a man
in the uniform of a Captain of Cavalry.
which he did not look at, but laid face
down at the bottom of the pile. Then he
opened the second drawer and took out sew
eral pairs of stockings, a change of under
clothing and all his handkerchiefs, He
made all these up into a neat little bundle
put it on the top shelf of his closet and
went down to tea.
Rose was inclined to be cool, after their
difference of the afternoon, but there was
no withstanding Bobby's angelic beSayioti
He replied sweetly to seyeraAi -
n - osffrss sPeecnas from her, cfuscd Fo
get angry when she alluded to aunt Melissa,
and in the evening played LogomaF with
her, when he hated games, and that particu-
lar game above all others. He split wood
fer Biddy without his usual intimahon she
used enough for hotel, closed doors quiet
ly, studied till he had every lesson perfect
and neither whistled nor sang captain
john" which latest effort of the Glee Club
was fast undermining the reason of its
members families.
Mingled with the real tragedy of the
situation was a queer element of enjoy
ment, which Bobby himself would have
been the last to recognize. He was doing
just what so many of the heroes of his
favorite books had done on arriving at the
age when they know more than their par
ents and guardians. In the background
was a faint picture of how, like them, he
probably should fish the son of a million
aire out of the water, rescue the wife of a
rich merchant from runaway horse, save
the daughter of an influential Senator from
death in a railroad collision, or jump to
fame and fortune in some other of the in
Vulnerable ways the favorite-alas !
writers for boys depict.
He was up the next morning at five
O'Clock, slowed his bundle in the stable,
where he could get at it easily, and then
set out on round of leave-taking. To his
rabbits, his pet rat that would come at his
| whistle, the turtles in the tank made out of
the old refrigerator, his dog, a mongrel
cur that had followed him home one day,
and lastly to Billy, the DOCTORS old horse,
Bobby had his arms closely about his neck
and there was something glistening on hts
name when he said at last, Goodbye, old
fellow"
He went in to breakfast and was so quiet
and subdued that his mother asked him
| twice if he were sick, and Rose, impressed
| by his magnanimity of the evening before,
began to feel the cravings Of remorse at
her own 'hatefulness" in view of the ILL
ness that was hanging over her brother.
There was choking feeling in Bobby's
| throat as he kissed his mother twice. He
did not kiss Rose, that could not have been
! expected. But he said, Goodbye, Rosie 70
which was a kiss translated.
| But to his,father he could not say word
| Doctor Grey thought it was Rose who had
| brushed his hat so carefully and laid his
| gloves just where he could see them, and
that Sam had been extra careful in groom.
ing Billy that :
Bobby was a model boy at school That
| never-to-be-forgotten Wednesday, "1he
last time" he kept saying to himself, with
a pang at his heart and that curious under
current of enjoyment. His geometry les
| son was perfect. In history he had ''read
up" on every point; the pretty history
teacher thought her reproof of the day be-
fore had had excellent effect. The profess
| sor told him in his excited way, "Y on hat
a ferry gootlesson, Grey" ending with the
funny little grunt that beginners in his
classes thought was the French accent and
strove to initiate, to the foreign gentle
mans wrath. He did not whisper He did
not play "Crambo" with the boy behind
nm. He did not throw an apple-core into
BILLY Watson's mouth when he CAPPED so
widely. He did not laugh when his most
intimate friend slipped with pile OF draw
ing books, scattering them widely. The
nero of Sunday school book could not
nave behaved better; nay, even Rollo him
| sell was but creation of the imagination
compared with Bobby.
Az recess he gave away his jack-knife to
JACK Forbes, his best pencil to Billy, his
Two short ones, dull at one end and chewed
at the other, to Tommy Blake, his block to
another fellow and his small French die
tlonary to boy who did not own any,
large or small, but who always had the best
lesson in the class; he was a boy Bobby
mated, too, so this made him feel more viz
tuous and increased his meek air. When
two O'Clock came he walked quietly to the
dresslng-room, took his cap without getting
INTO the usual scuffle, and went back to
the class room on some pretext, that on
going out he might say goodbye" to the
history teacher.
There was base ball after school. He was
going to stop for that. One last rousing
game, that should stand out landmark in
the history of the school, and be re.
ferred to regretfully ever after-this with
the enjoyment uppermost-as "the last
time that stunning player, Bobby Grew,
played with u.s." even when his name had
become something to be handled shrink
lngly, the heartache was all ON the TOP now.
He'll die, know. And me so cross and
ugly to him. And him so sweet and lovely
to me. Didn't | know he was going to be
killed this morning Oh, dear, oh dear ?,
and nxxrt.tt har, 10.