Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1884-02-07

knew how often he had kept his tipsy
father of the country road when carts OF
carriages were coming along, nor how be
had managed to guide him in safety over
the narrow bridge that led across the
river to their cottage.
So Charlie sat there quietly, though
he was growing more tired and hungry
every moment, until the sound of q
whistle at little distance attracted his
attention, the sound gradually coming
nearer and sounding more distinct, until
young man jumped over the stile at the
end of the field and approached the child,
who then knew him to be gentleman
he had often met during the last few
weeks, sometimes sketching, sometimes
wandering about with his KNAPP
sack on his back and his port
folio under his arm. Indeed, a
kind of half-acquaintance had sprung
up between the young artist and Charlie
-one attracted by the glimpses he had
caught of the pictures contained in the
wonderful portfolio, the other by the
chAd's wistful glances and his rustic
beauty
Busy with his own thoughts, and judg-
ing from his happy face they were very
pleasant ones-perhaps dreams of the
time when some wonderful picture of his
should hang on the walls of the academy,
and by so doing help him on the road to
fame and fortune-Eustace Carroll had
half crossed the field before he noticed
Charlie and his father. Then his quick
eyes told him the meaning of the little
scenei the quiet, weary-looking child
and the sleeping father, with his untidy
clothes and collar and necktie unfastened
and his face turned up to the blue sky
that looked down upon nothing so de-
based as this man, whom God had made
"a little lower than the angels, "a and who,
by his own vice, had thus degraded him
self.
With the quick instinct of childhood
Charlie understood the look of disgust
with which the young artist turned to
him, saying kindly as he didso:
"You are waiting to take your father
home, supposed"
Eyes, SIR" replied the child, while a
flush of shame spread over his face.
"Well, think he is likely to lie
there for hours yet. Can't you leave
him2n
No, sir; he might be run over or
fall into the river if left him to come
home by himself"
"Ohp' said Eustace, as he glanced
toward the sleeping man, and wondered
if it would be much loss to any one
if he did fall into the river; but he
checked the thought, remembering that
he, with his refined tastes, and many
kinds of amusements, could form no idea
of the temptation which drink might
have for this man, with his small advan-
tages of fortune and education; and then
an idea flashed across his mind, and he
determined to act upon it.
Have you had your tea, boy7" be
asked, as he unstrapped his knapsack and
took out small parcel wrapped in
paper.
Mother will be sure to keep it for
me until get home, sir, replied Charlie,
too brave to complain to stranger.
"That's all right" said Eustace, un-
derstanding and respecting the feeling
that dictated the answer; meanwhile,
I shall give you this piece of cake just
to pass the time away. When I was a
small boy stray pieces of cake never pre-
vented me eating my meals when they
came, SO your mothers tea will not be
wasted. Now, you sit still, for am going
to make picture, and when it is finished
I will show it to you"
Very few dainties fell to Charles share
in those days, and Eustace was highly
amused at the manner in which he ate
his cake, nibbling it off around the edg,
so as to make it last as long as possible;
and he succeeded so well that the picture
was finished almost at the same moment
as the last currant disappeared.
"Well, was it goodq' asked Eustace,
as he tied his portfolio.
eyes; mother does not put currents in
her cakes. Sometimes on our birthdays,
when father has not been out, we have
a cake; but then we have no seed in it. !"
"And those are not SO nice?"
ooh, no, sir, of course notln answered
Charlie, surprised that any one should
ask such question.
"Well, am glad you like it. 1 am
going to the city in day or two, but /
shall put another piece Of cake in my
knapsack in case meet you again before
| go. Look here; do you know who this
isf''
Charlie glanced at the little picture
Eustace held out to him, and then he
gave scream of surprise.
"Why, it's me and father"
And so it was; and even though
Eustace should live to be an old man,
he will never succeed in making any
thing more true to nature than that hur-
ried sketch. He had just caught the
tired, wistful look on the child's face, and
it was all the more striking as it was
brought into such contrast with the va
cant sountenance of the tipsy sleeper,
who looked SO thoroughly out of place
beside the child, and the pleasant green
background of the hedge, where the con-