The Arkansaw traveler., 1884-09-06
THIEF.
CHAPTER |.


 neighborhood. He was one of those men whose meanness of character caused people, in contemplation of him. to wonder why he was ever created. If a kindness were in easy reach and cruelty were at a difficult distance, he would pass by the kindness and seek the crael,y. The path leading to his house was no, well worn. The creek which ran near his habitation seemed to wash its banks and change its channel to get farther away from him.
 Old Cruger's wife was dead. Had it not been for her little boy, lame and de- formed, she would have shouted for joy when the summons came, for each day to her was continuation of misery.
 Against the mothers fearful protest, the boy had been named Thief He was pitiable little creature, and his eyes were ofss of melancholy. His mother taught him to read, but the father, upon finding book in his hand, would be- labor him with it until his cries for mercy would have moved any heart, except the heart of his father-a heart of flint.
 Old Cruger was not at home when his wife died, but the boy, all she cared for in this world, was with her and, holding her hands, he sat by the bedside.
 Mother, l hear storm coming" said the child. "I hear the thunder in the distance, and see the light glimmering where the sky comes down to the ground. It is like the storm you read about before father took that blue-back book away from us. Mother"
 "Yes, child"
 Why don't you call me by my name ?"
 Because you are not thief"
 Why did father give me such a name?"
 'I don't know"
 "Well, when get to be a man can change it, can't ?"
 "Yes.n
 " Mother, what makes your hands SO cold ?"
 My poor little boy, am dying"
 No-don't say that. You are talking to me and anybody .kat's dying can't talk. You'll be better in the morning."
 In the morning, my darling child, my soul will be at rest. Rest. oh, how long for the still waters and the pastures green with the cool air of rest. The Lord is my shepherd-your shepherd. Unto him l resign you. Have mercy on my afflicted child, oh, God "
 Mother"
 She did not reply.
 Let me put down the window, for the rain is coming. Let go my hands mo- ment, mother. Oh, mother-great God, she IS dead,"
 CHAPTER II.
 Thief"
 "Yes, sir"
 Come here to me. Where have you been! Mowling around that grave again, eh ?"
 Don't whip me, please"
 "Co on in the house," striking him a violent blow. "Ketch you out there again and I'll cut you in two. Why don't you learn some sense"
 "I do try, father"
 No you don't. There's another thing you've got to stop. You've got into the habit of going around and telling the neighbors that beat you. No more of that.n
 "l have never told but one man and he asked me-"
 "Why didn't you tell him it was none of his business? Look out or you'll catch it."
 "Wonder why was born ?' said the boy in an under tone.
 That's what I'd like to know" growl- cd old Cruger. "l've never found any thing yet that you are good for, unless it is to give me trouble"
 Il don't want to give you any trouble. i"
 Neither does the rheumatism
 "Father," gazing with the orbs of melan- eholy at his parent, unnatural and 90 cruel. "what kind of a man are you Why do you hate me SO? Is it because you drink whiskyT'
 Old Cruger was astonished. Never before had the son referred to his fathers intemperance. "Consound your ugly shape, what is that you said !? Come here to me. Oh, m mash the life out of you w
 He threw him on the floor, with merci- less force, and, after striking him, stag gered and fell on the boys breast. The