Daily Kennebec journal., 1884-04-30
1alts aud Sketthfs.
THE TWO ovERCoArs.
(Continued from yesterday. }


"A look into your fine parlor." ans
wered Amos. roughly '.Strange wanted
to see it, wasn't il? 1t ought not to matter
to me, of course, what use ysu make o
my money.
loud laugh. That's a crazy joke. Come,
nv man, you're drunk. Get out of here,
or I'll have you put where you can make
your Jokes TO yourself"
You think you're rich enough now to
speak to me as YOU choose" said Amos,
hotly. Time was when YOU wouldn' t
have dared But | tell you Jason Sill
brook, I've come 70 nv senses tonight.
It's a poor bargain where the gains all
on one side We started even. and
you've got all and nothin'. But | tell
YOU now, that heaven helpiu' me. you'll
never have another dollar of mine 10
spend. You'll never buy another coat
ike this out o. my money and he struck
in sudden passion the seal trimmed gar
ment which covered Sillbrook's ample
proportions.
BE off with you," said the saloon
keeper. You're TO drunk to know what
you're talking about
And who made me drunk answer that
question. Jason Sillbrook," screamed
Amos.
..I'll answer nothin'," said Sillbrook.
and, tearing the coat from the grasp Amos
had laid upon it, he strobe up the path and
disappeared within the house.
The next morning, when the superin-
tendent made his round of the mill. he
missed one of his machine hands.
where's Derby?" he asked angrily.
No one could answer his question. No
one had seen Derby that day. And no
one at the mill saw him for many day
to come
Il might have been kinder to him, "
thought Jane, when at last she became
convinced that her husband had in truth
left her. Perhaps | did say more'n
should at times. Poor Amos he was no
more to blame than | was, after all. Per-
haps he would have kept out O that saloon
if I'd only coaxed stead O railing at him.
He wasn't bad-hearted, an he never meant
more'n half he said"
And as the days went by, and she forgot
her past sorrows. she hid only kind
thoughts of her absent husband ,and blam-
ed only herself for their mutual misery.
She wished with all her heart that she
could begin over again. and try the effects
of kindness and forbearance on Amos.
But no such opportunity was given her,
and she had little time for bitter thoughts
or unavailing regret.
The superintendent OF the mill gave her
eldest child, lad of II, situation where
he could earn four dollars a week. and
girl year younger found work in a
millinery store. Thus Jane was relieved
s nd sha f,,l
with her needle that she soon found her,
self able to .'lay by something for rainy
day." as she expressed it.
Gradually the children were provided
with comfortable clothes and were sent to
church and to Sunday school, from which
they had been debarred for several years,
owing to lack of decent apparel; the
house was repaired, new furniture bought,
flower garden laid out in front of the
cottage, and a new fence erected. People
began to speak of Jane as a surprising
smart woman. and to say that her hus-
bands desertion had been blessing in
disguise. But in spite OF her prosperity
there was an ache ever at James heart,
and regret which no good fortune could
stifle.
IF I'd only been kinder!' she would
say to herself, as she lay awake at night
and thought of her absent hus band. 1T
was nv fault he drank; | see that now
He was always telling me that my tenn
per'd ruin him in the end, and now his
words come true"
She felt as if she ought to make some
atonement for her past sin, even though
she was never to see her husband again.
and with this end in view she determined
to cure herself OF the habit of scolding
and fault finding about which poor Amos
had complained so bitterly.
After few struggles at first. she found
her new path very pleasant to her feet,
and was encouraged to persevere by the
artleSs comments made bv her children
on the improvement of her temper.
You're so good, now. mother" they
would say when, instead OF sharp re-
buke they had expected on the commits
sion of some childish folly. came very
kind words of regret and gentle reproof
You are so different from what YOU used
to be. If father could only come home
and live with US now, how happy we
would all be-"
But Amos did not come. Year after
passed. and he sent no sign; and at
]
think of him as dead.
Seven years! Seven years to day had
passed since Amos Derby had left his
home and up the street and past the mill,
came tall man with a cap of seal-skin
pulled low over his eyes, and handsome
overcoat trimmed with the same costly fur
over his arm. He whistled as he walked
and seemed in great good humor. for oc-
casionally he would break out in loud
laugh.
But as he came near the cottage where
Jane Derby lived, he became more quiet
and an anxious expression stole into his
face.
II wonder if she'll know me. he NUT
tered
Going up to the window OF the kitchen
he shaded his eyes with one hand and
looked in.
Jane was sitting at supper, her five
children about her. The room looked
warm and comfortable A bright fire
burned in the stove. the kettle sang mer-
rily. and big maltese cat dozed among
some plants on the broad window seat.
Fred, the eldest son. muscular youn O
man now, was speaking. and his words
came distinctly to the ears of the watcher
outsida