Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1883-09-04

weary, hopeless look it had worn bright
ened into something like pleasure as he
answered
Yes. that is my mother. There are
only we two"
"My mother would have called, bu,
she has been quite ILL.," Margaret ex.
planned. 1T will be so pleasant to
have the cottage occupied again. And
I shall always be sure Of company for
the long walk-that is, if you don't
mind"
In the rush of feeling which overpow-
cred him, the boy turned away his face.
Margaret seemed not to notice his Sic
lence.
"lt is lonesome sometimes, you know, {
she went on, especially in winter. and
none of the others 90 with me nearly all
the way
The boy looked up at her with all his
soul in his eyes, and even the most
thoughtless among US realized that an
almost sacred comradeship was sealed
between the two, and the whole power Of
"Queen Margsret's' prestige in the Acad-
emy set to guard the poor unfortunate
from slight or insult.
As the weeks passed, we found that
Jasper's m6rmity was only Of the body,
and that mentally he was strong and ma
ture even beyond his years, mastering
his tasks with ease, and showing a
breadth and grasp Of thought which as
,onished teachers and pupils alike. Shy
and reticent with the rest Of US, to Mar
garet he seemed to show all his heart.
From her we learned the little we knew
of his history. His parents had been OF
English birth, his father dying just as
the first symptoms appeared of the dread
full disease which has blighted Jaspers
life, and leaving his wife, with broken
health and narrow means, almost friend
less in strange land. Mother and son
had been all in all to each other-she
inspiring his earlier studies and jealousy
guarding him as long as she was able
from an appreciation Of the full extent of
his atfiiction. Perhaps the revelation
had been all the more bitter when it
came, because it partook Of the nature Of
Of a shock. Jaspers one ambition now
was to educate himself so that he might
not only cease to be burden upon his
mother, but be able in some way to as
sist her.
Most of the pupils of the Academy
were generous enough not to begrudge to
the deformed boy prize after prize of
scholarship which rewarded his faithful
effort. However, as the school year
drew to its close bitter jealousy Of his
success grew and rankled in one heart at
least.
Herbert Archer was boy Of brilliant
mind but reckless disposition. 1t had
been his custom to redeem many days OF
mischievous idleness by few days OF
hard work at the end Of each term, when
he would pass his examination with toll
erable credit. As motive to more per-
sistent effort his father had made the
gaining of certain rhetoric prize by him,
the condition upon which be should re-
ceive the gift Of beautiful sail-boat, upon
which he had set his heart.
Herbert had really woked diligently,
and his only formidable rival was Jasper
Langley. But few days remained be-
fore the decision was to be made. Jasper
had obtained permission to remain in the
library for an hour or more after school
in order to consult an encyclopedias for
some dates desired in the preparation Of
his theme. The door stood sjar as Her
bert passed with two or three companions
and disclosed the little figure Of the boy,
with paper and pencil in hand. bent la
boriously over the great volume. Her
bert was in an irritable mood, following
upon an unexpected failure in his reci-
tation, and the sight seemed to throw
him into sudden rage. He flung open
the door and strobe hastily into the
room.
"See here, fellows! he cried out in
voice hoarse with passion, the "miser-
able little sneak, coaching away for dear
life! It's burning shame for crook.
ed thing like that, good for nothing in
the world, to slip in here, worming him
self into the good graces Of the teachers
and making off with all the prizes under
the very noses of his betters! Let's put
him out !"
He advanced with clenched fist, but a
hand on his shoulder arrested him, not so
much by the strength Of its grasp as by
the irresistible power Of the spirit behind
it Margaret Lee stood there, her face
q white fame Of anger, yet 80 clear and
free of all self.consciousness that it
seemed to have something like the divine
wrath within. Herbert, as If literally