St. Landry democrat., 1885-04-11
THE A

A Touching Incident Illustrating q
Fathers I~nfatuation and a Daughters
Love.
a pathetic scene occurred a few
nights ago at a notorious uptown re-
sort. 1t was q little girl pleading with
her father.
ssWon't you come home now, father.
p~lease?:'' she said. Her voice was low
and childish, and the sweet u%pturned
face was pale and quiyering with some
hardly suppressed emotion-bnt the
man toward whom the appeal and
agony were directed took little notice
of either.
"Why do you bother me|' ne sald,
impatlently. Go home. III come
when I'm ready" and regaining with
an effort his uncertain balance he LETT
her.
The girl looked after him wistfully,
then, as his form was lost to her view
in the crowded room, with a deep, de-
spairinp SIGH she turned and left the
place. Outside the electric lights
streamed full upon her slender figure
q she hesitated a moment before de-
scending the step. One or two police
men lettering near eyed her curiously,
and some men hurrying in gave her a
quick, questioning glance, but no one
molested OF spoke to her. and slowly
she went out from the glare and dazzle
into the darker street beyond.
The night was cold and stormy. An
lev sleet was falling, driven in every
direction by the capricious and httul
wild gusts, and the few pedestrians
who were abroad hurried on their way
anxious to gain shelter. The girl alone
appeared unconscious of the discom-
forts of the weather. The rain beat
upon her, the fierce wind met her with
q force against which she staggered,
but she did not heed them. With doubt
full purpose she walked slowly on, turn
inc back once or twice to look again at
the place whence she had come, until,
as the clock from a neighboring tower
indicated to her how late the hour was,
she stopped altogether.
80 1ate,' ; she murmured. "O! l
can not go home without him" and
now she turned swiftly and retraced her
| steps. She paused for a moment on the
threshold; evidently she feared her own
resolution. The doors yielded instantly
to her touch, and once she looked
over the scene whose light and warmth
and comfort were as little to her as the
rain and wind outside. Her searching
| glance soon found out her father; for
the moment he was standing alone, and
his daughter felt that she had one more
chance. Rapidly she gained his side.
'sFather, dear father, she began,
| speaking low but passionately, Il can
not leave you here. I can not face
mamma without you; she has waited so
many nights for your homecoming, and
the hours are so dreary without you.
@, father!'' the child went on, gather
ING up all her energies, as she saw that
her listener was half needing her words,
''break away from this Wretched place,
come back to your home. and mamma,
and me; we love you so dearly We can
not live without you, and oh! it is all SO
different now from what it used to be. =
| The childish voice was breaking. sSuch
d little time ago we were all so happy
Here a sob almost choked her. She
slipped her cIinging fingers into the un-
resisting hand Of the man who stag
gcred at her side. tsCome back to us,
father; come home with me now,'' and
the tears, no longer within her power
to restrain, coursed down Ter pale
cheeks as she lifted her face to him,
holding his gaze with her Wistful, plead
ing eyes.
The mans features worked convul-
sively; he looked about him once half
desperately; then some better feeling
swept over him, and, Strengthening him
self up, he said brokenlY: Il viii go
with you, Jennie" and, clasping close
the hand of his little daughter, as if
that frail guide were his chief support,
the two together went out from the
light, and glare, and dazzle Of the
rolIer-skating rink forever N. I. San.