The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1884-12-20

general leasting anu merry-making.
~ feel as II a great nightmare were lite
off my heart and brain, now the old ma,
has gone" she said. "He will DO 80 micI
better OF, and get so much moro skillfu
treatment, you know, In a place like that
They are very kind In that institution
and 30 clean, and nice, nnd he will lay
plenty Of company TO keep him from be
Ing lonesome. We have been NIL througl
It, during the last year, or else We neve
should have sent him there. It Is reall,
mn excellent home for him."
It was Just o year litter when a delicate
o Bweetfaced woman was shown through
the ward OF that excellent home" for III,
4 poor and unfortunate. She walked Will
nervous haste, and her eyes glanced from
from room to room, and from face 10 face
rs II seeking, yet dreading some object.
Presently tho attendant pushed open Q
partly closed door, which led into q small
!. close room, ventilated only by n high
narrow, window.
"This Is tho room, I boliove," sho said,
and tho lady stopped inland paused,
Tho air was close and Impure, and almost
stiiled her.
On the opposite side Of tho room she
saw n large crib with II cover or lid which
could DO closed and locked whom necessa.
~, but which was raised now. In this
crib upon n hard mattress and soiled pill
man. He turned his slgl,tless eyes to-
ward the door Us he heard the sound OF
footsteps.
"What Is wanted2" he asked feebly;
"does anybody want me? las anybody
come for me?"
40 father, fatherI" cried tho woman in
o voice choked with sobs. "Don't you
know me? 1t Is land l have como to
take you away.-to take you away home
with me. VIII you go?"
a glow OF delight shone ovcr the old
mans wasted iace, like the last rays OF the
sunlight over a winter landscape. Tie half
arose upon his elbow, and leaned forward
rs il trying to sec tho speaker.
"Why it's Abby, it's Abby, como at
last!" he said. "fou called inc father,
didn't you-and you was crying, and It
made your voice sound kind O. strange
and broken like. But you must DO Abby
come to take mo home. Oh, Thought
you'd come at last, Abby. 1t seems a long,
long time since | camo away. And you've
como Mt last. Let me take your hand,
daughter, for / can't see yet. They don't
seem to help mo here as you thought they
would. And I'm 20 hungry, Abbyl-lo
you think you could manage to get the
old man a little something to cat before we
start homer"
The woman had grown paler and paler
as she listened to these words which the
old man poured out in eager haste, like
one whose thoughts and feelings long pent
| within himself for want Of n listener now
rushed forth pell-mell into speech.
she does not know me" she whispered
tho does not know me. Well, I will not
undeceive him now. He is happy in this
d~elusion-let him keep it for the present."
Then, aloud, she said:
"iou are hungry, father? do you not
have food enough here ?" .
"Oh, | havo my share, Abby; I have my
share. But my appetite's varying, and
sometimes when they bring it | can't eat
it, and then when ! want it most I can't
got it. I'm one of many here, and I've
been 80 lonesome, Abby. But then I
knew you'd come for me all in good time.
And, Ben-how is Ben, Abby? does he
want to see his old father again? All, Ben
was a nice little boy-a nice little boy.
But 'Liz'beth want no kind OF a mother
for such a higf.strung lad. And then he
hadn't oughter married that sickly sort OF
girl that ran of an left him. Sakes alive
what q temper she had 1t sort Of broke
Ben down living with her rs long as he
did. But he remembers his old father at
last, don't he' And he wants to have me
home TO die. All, Ben, has a good heart
after all"
~ must not tell him; I must not"
whispered the woman as sho listened.
"Bitter to me MS this deception is, l must
let him remain in it." Then with 4 sud
en- bracing Of the nerves, and visible ef-
fort she said:
"Ben is away from homo now, father.
He will not be there 10 met you, but you'll
not mind that: ! shall make you 80 com.
Portable; | want you at home during the
holidays"
So he went out from the horror and
loneliness and gloom Of the Poor House,
10 the comfortable home which Edith had
provided for herself and child in the years
since she left Ben. Eva was q precocious
lGklC hlAlNSh Vi l1lllS uONS Nl6S Allu MO-.
manly beyond her years. So soon as
Edith learned OF the old mans dosolate
fate, she resolved to bring him home. Eva
could attend to his wants during the day, |
while she was in the school.room, and the
interrupted studies could DO pursued in
the evening. Or she could hire assistance
il no was as troublesome as report had
said. He had been a harsh old man, and
had helpedto widen the breach between
her and Ben. But he was the father OF
the man she had married, and she could
not let him die in the Poor House. So she
brought him home.
Don't hear 4 child's voice" he asked,
as Eva came dancing out to greet them.
"Who is it, Abby?"
"Why it's your own little g%randdaugl-
ter, Eva," cried the child c~lasping bis
withered hand in her two soft palms.
"Don't you remember me? Mamma says
you used to love me-"
Edith's heart stood still. Surely now
he would understand. And would he be
angry and harsh with here
The old mans face lighted.
"Ah, l sec, l see" no said, muslnply,
"Abby and Ben have taken the little one
iiohiS' Y hiust w lfultll ID IeAu, DIG
was such a puny thing" Then turning
his face TO tho woman who WIS guiding
his tailoring footsteps, no asked:
"And is Edith deadT"
"Yes," she answered, quietly, Edith Is
dead" And added, ito you,"in o whis-
per.
"Ho must never DO undcceivcd," she
thought. ut would be too severe ALLOW;
the truth might kill him." And 10 Eva
she said, a little later:
'Dear, yonr grandfather Is very i'll, and
not quite right in his mind. lie thinks
my name is Abby, and you must not cor.
rect him or dispute any strange thing he
may may say"
The journey left tho old man worry weak
Indeed, but he talked almost constantly.
ut was so good Of you, Abby, 10 take
| tt,n lstt1n 1sr1 ln,,a " 10 ,,a,1 iTy-I