The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1884-07-26

if there is room, he will add cannon.
aud perhaps palm tree. A pirate
island always has palm trees.
He is so full of this projected picture
of his that he is quite surprised TO find
that he is very near the square where he
lives; but here, Just in front of him, at
the end of the narrow lane, is the pub
lic-house with the coach and four en-
graved on the ground glass of the lower
part of the window, and the bottles full
of colored water ranged above.
And here is the green-grocer's-h
long is it since it was a barber !? surely
very little time and there is the boot
makers, with its outside display of
dangling shoes and the row Of naked
gas-jets blown to pale blue sparks and
whistling red tongues by turns as a
gust sweeps across them.
This is his home, this dingy, old
fashioned red brick house at an angle
of the square, with small paved
space rallied in before it. He pushes
open the old gate with the iron arch
above, where an oil lamp used to hang,
and hurries up to the door with the
heavy Georgian porch, impatient to get
to the warmth and light which await
him within.
The bell has got out of order, for
only faint jangle comes from below
as he rings; he waits little and then
pulls the handle again, more sharply
this time, and still no one comes.
When Betty does think proper to
come up and open the door he will tell
her that it is too bad to keep q fellow
standing out here in the fog and cold
all this time. She is coming at
last-no, it was fancy; it seems a. if
Betty had slipped out for something,
and perhaps the cook is up stairs, and
his mother may be doing by the fire,
as she has begun to do of late.
Losing all patience, he gropes Tor the
knocker, and, CROPPING in vain, begins
to hammer with bare fists on the door,
louder and louder, until he is inter-
rupted by a rough voice from tae rail-
ings behind him.
"Now, then, what are you up to
there, eh?" says the voice, which be-
longs to burly policeman who has
stopped suspiciously on the pavement
"Why," says Rolleston, 81 want to
get in and l can't make them hear me-
l wish you'd try what you could do;
will you?'
The policeman comes slowly into the
gate. Il dessay," he says ioctlarly
SIS there anythink else? Come sup
pose you move on"
A curious kind of dread of he Knows
not what begins to creep over Wilfred
at this.
"Move on?" he cries; ''why should
move on? This is my house; don't you
see? | live here.
"Now, look ere, my joker; Idon't
want q job ever this" says the con-
stable, stolidly. You'll bring a crowd
around in another minute if you keep
on that 'ammering."
''Mind your own business says the
other, with growing excitement.
That's what shall have to do if
you don't look out is the retort. will
you move on before | make you?"
But, | say, protests Rolleston, ''I'm
not joking; | give you my word I'm
not; do live here. Why, I've Just
come back from school, and l can get
in
"Pretty school you came FRONT"
growls the policeman; . andes on to
your lesson books, if l knows anything.
Ere, out you 60"
Rolleston' 5 fears increases. WON'T
| won t.' he cries franticallv, ambush
ing back TO the door beats upon itwild-
ly. On the other side of it are love
and shelter, and it will not open to him.
He is cold and hungry and tired after
his walk; why do they keep him out
like this?'
"Mother!' he calls hoarsely. Cant
you hear me, mother? It's Wilfred;
let me in
The other takes him, not roughly, by
the shoulder. "Now you take my adj
vice, he SAYS. "You amt quite YOUR
self you re making a mistake. don't
want to get you in trouble if you don't
force me to it. Drop this ere tomfool
game, and 60 home quiet to wherever
it is you do live"
Il tell YOU | live here, you foolr'
shrieks Wilfred, in deadly terror lest he
should be forced away before the door
is opened.
And | tell you you don't do nothing
of the sort" says the policeman, be-
ginning to lose his temper. "No one
don't live ere, nor amt done not since
I've bin on the beat. Use your eyes if
you're not too far gone"
For the first time Rolleston seems to
see things plainly as they are; he
glances around the square-that is just
as it always is on foggy winter even
ings, with its central Enclosure a
shadowy black mass against reddish
glimmer, beyond which the lighted
windows of the houses glow in yellow
bars of varying length and tint.
But this house, his own-whv, it is all
suffered and dark; some of the
window-panes are broken; there is a
pale gray patch in one that looks like a
dingy bill the knocker has been I'M
screwed from the door, and on its
scraped panels some one has scrubbed
words and rough caricatures that were
surely not there when he left that
morning.
Can anything-any frightful disaster
have come in that short time? No,
he will not think of it; he will not let
himself be terrified all for nothing.
''Now, are you goin'?" says the DO
liceman, after pause.
Rolleston puts his back against the
door and clinpS tn the sides tsNori