Morris tribune. [volume] (Morris, Minn.) 1880-2000, 1883-03-31


But which way had they gomez Three
roads branched from the main road, all
leading for some distance In the same d.
rection, and all equally travelled. There
were fresh wagon tracks ON two of them,
and Father John shook his head, not know
ing what to advise.
What did they mean by starting without
your he cried, angrily.
"Oh, they didn't knowl" bursting into
tears After breakfast I climbed up into
the back wagon and fell asleep, and the
church bells Weakened me. ! knew Cousin
Nan wouldn't let me go II asked, SO l
slipped out of the wagon ana thought I'd
go to church and be back before they miss
ed me. They think Pm asleep there yet.
They never do call ME when they're start
ing. They won't miss me till tonight,
when they stop to camp and get dinner"
"Then they'll be sure to come back" said
Father John, soothingly. "Just stop cry
ing, and come home with me and get some
dinner. I live all by myselfin little house
near the church. Come, Almal You'll be
safe with yonr friends tomorrow"
"Never never!" she cried, throwing her
self on the ground in passion of grief.
They'll never turn back for me. They'll
be glad to lose me. But they're all have
in the world though they are SO cruel"
They walked together to his tiny little
house, and lucky was it for the child that in
her extremity she had fallen into suoh kind
hands. Many years before, Father John
had lost wife and children. Sin ce then he
has lived alone, or as much alone as an old
man beloved by every man. woman and
child in that community could be.
He did his best for Alma, but all efforts
to trace the wagons farther than the next
town proved unavailing. About two
months later letter came from Cousin
Nan TO the postmaster at Oak HILL asking
for information of the lost child. If there,
she wss to try and get q situation with
some one until her relatives could come
or send fer her. which could not be until
the next spring. It was cold, unfeeling
letter--no message to Alma. She was
alluded to as If she had been q parcel of
little value accidentally left behind, which
would be sent for at some convenient season.
Never mind, little one" said Father
John, Eating the girls head. "Them that
wrote that letter are not going to trouble
their heads about you, You're happy as
the day is long here-you fill the place OF
of my own dead littla Bessie, and this go.
ing to be your home until the old man dies,
or you choose to leave him. Are you not
8illing?"
She bent down and kissed his hands, for
she could not speak.
Twoyears rolled by, which brings us to
the night before East r. If Alma had been
delicate as child. she was wasted now to
transparent shadow-a beautiful shadow
whose great flashing eyes had grown strange
iy solemn and peaceful.
"a feel almost we'll tonight, father" she
was saying, land oh, I do hope tomorrow
will be beautiful day.
"You don't think Of singing in the choir
tomorrow" asked the old man, with
troubled took
'Indeed dol How could they manage
the solo in Loyds TIE Dsum without me?
Besides, it's the second anniversary of the
day you found me. a poor, friendless,
wretohed little wait, and took me to your
kind heart. Father, your little girl must
thank God in her own way for these two
happy, happy ye~rs." She folded her
hands on his arm nd looked in his face.
Ii was glorious Easter morning. The
sky was shadowless, and between the sun
and flowers and bird songs in the oaks,
the little church was an exquisite idyll.
Once more the odorous orange-petals float
ed in the chancel; once more the TIE DeuIE
sTeled TO the arched roof; but Alma to-day
was among the wnite-robed choristers.
Paier than ever, with all the yearning and
passion gone oIt of her luminous eyes, you
could only read in them holy hope and
profound peace The solo rose IN the air.
Thrilling, pIaintige, every note perfect in
its tender clearness, never had she sung so
we'll. People held their breaths to listen.
Make them to be numbered with the saints
in glory
A sudden silence of the voice. The organ
ceased. There was a cry from the choir as
Alma fell heavily forwards. Not sigh
from the white lips. The sweet singer had
borne her unfinished anthem of praise to
tt e ( lot OF the White Throne.--Youth's Com
panion.