The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1884-02-15

-one attracted by the glmpses ne hao
caught Of the pictures contained In the
wonderful portfolio, the other by the
child'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
scene; the quiet, weary-looking child
and the sleeping father, with his untidy
clothes and collar and necktie unlastehed,
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, "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 did so:
"You are waiting to take your father
home, supposed"
eyes, sir" replied the child, while a
flush of shame spread over his face.
"Well, l think he is likely to lie
there for hours yet. Can't you leave
him2"
"No, sir; he might be run over or
fall into the river if left him to come
home by himself"
"Ohl" 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 refned 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
on idea flashed across his mind, and he
determined to act upon it.
"Have you had your tea, boyY" he
asked, as he unstrapped his knapsack and
took out small parcel wrapped in
paper.
"Mother will be sure to keep it TOR
me until get home, sit, replied Charlie;
too brave to complain to stranger.
"That's all right" said Eustace, I'M
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 l was
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 1t good2' 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
cake; but then we have no seed in it. y
"And those are not so nice2"
ooh, no, sir, of course notP' answered
Charlie, surprised that any one should
ask such question.
"Well, am glad you like it, l 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
I go. Look here; do you know who this
isT,
Charlie glanced at the little picture
Eustace held out to him, and then he
gave scream of surprise.
"Why, it's me and fatherm
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 countenance 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
volvulus blossoms mingled with the wilc
rose and blackberry flowers. "Wait {
moment" said Eustace, and then HI
wrote at the bottom of the sketch three
lines from poem of Burns:
"Oh, wad some power the giftie gle us
To see oursels as ithers see u.s.
1t wad frae many trouble free u.s."
"There," he continued, putting thu
picture in the child's hands. "You shal
have that, and if you like to show it t.
your father one of these days, do so; i
may teach him lesson" And, before
the child could make any reply, Eustac'
was off and away, tramping along thu
high road.
Five years had passed before the youns
artist had the time and chance to visi
the quiet village again. In those tiv'
years he had done good work-hat
thought, and worked, and painted, un
, til people had begun to believe in him
and talked of him as one of the mos
: promising painters of the day.
STILL in the midst of it all, he often re
J membered his little sketch, and won
dered-without much hope in the won
der, Observation-Disclosures his idea that
ight do go1d had come to pass; and OF
the day he travelled down to Morrison, tn
memory of the scene came clearly befor
him with the thought of the CRANE
/ old words: 'Cast thy bread upon tn
, waters, for thou shall find it after man.
days"
''Such poor little crumb of goot
r though it was" said Eustace to himself
''still wonder-I wonderland I'll tt.
| to find it out, too"
} And as it happened, Eustace did fin'
it out more quickly than he expected, TO
that very evening, as he was returnin!
, from walk, in the course of whicl
D he had visited some of his oil