The Abbeville messenger. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1884-1887, 1885-11-24

small basket and put it ~piteously to
her eyes.
"It's too bad, said I. Zones might
remember that he once had-if he
hasn't now a mother of his own"
"And lose his place on the road"
said Mills. "No, no. old fellow, all
that sort of thing does very well to
talk about. but it don't work in real
life"
So he went into the next car, and
the signal to slack up came presently.
1 turned to Mr.. Jones, the conductor,
who just then stepped out on the plat
form.
"Is it for that old lady?" said I. He
answered, eyes" Said I, "How far
did she want to CO." "To Swamp
scott" said he.
"You needn't stop, Mr.. JONES'" said
I, "I'll pay her fare"
"You!" he echoed.
"Yes, l." said I. "Ill take her TO
my own house until she can telegraph
to her friends or something. My wife
will be good to her, 1 know, for the
sake Of her own old mother out east !"
Just as you please" said Mr.. Jones.
We did not stop at Stumpville sta
ton after all, but put on more steam
and ran as fast as it was safe to drive
u engine-and when. a little past
midnight, we reached Swampscott,
where we were due at 7:30, Pierre Rene,
the Frenchman, came. on board to re-
lieve me, and I helped my old lady off
the train, flat basket, travelling bag
and all.
IAN I to be put of, after ALP said
she. with a scared look around her.
"Cheer up, ma'am," said I, "You are
all right. Now, then-look out for
the step! Here we are"
where am I?" said the old lady.
cat Swampscott, ma'am," said l.
"And you are the kind man who
paid my fare?" said she. "But my
daughter and her husband will repay
you when"
"An right, ma'am," said I. "And
now, if you'll just take my arm, We'll
be home in a quarter Of an hour"
"But," said she, ''why can't 1 go di-
rectly to my destination?"
It's middling late. ma'am," said +,
"and the houses don't stand shoulder
to shoulder in Swampscott. My near
est neighbor is a mile and a-half away.
But never fear. ma'am, I've a wife
that will be glad to bid you welcome
for the sake of her own mother"
She murmured a few words of
thanks, hut she was old and weary.
and the path was rough and uneven,
in the very teeth of a keen November
blast-and walking wasn't an easy
task. Presently, we came to the little
cottage on the edge of the Swamp
scott woods, where the light glowed
warmly through the Turkey red cur
tains.
"Oh. Mark, dearest. how late you
are?' cried Kate, making haste to
open the door. "Come in quick, out
of the wind. Supper is all ready, and
but who is that with you?"
In a hurried whisper I told her all.
did lido right, Kate? 5" said 1.
Fright, of course you did," said she.
'Ask her to come in at once. And I'll
put another cup and saucer on the
table"
Tenderly ! assisted the chilled and
weary old lady across the threshold.
Here's my wife" said I. "And
here's a cup of smoking hot coffee and
some of Katie's own biscuits and
chicken pie! You'll be all right when
the cold is out of your joints a bit r.
"You are very, very welcome" said
Kate brightly, as she advanced to un-
tie our visitors veil and loosen the
folds Of her cloak. But. all Of a sud-
den, heard a cry, "Mother, oh. moth
erl"
Hold on, Kate r said I, with the
coffee-pot still in my hand, as 1 had
been lifting it from the fire. "This is
never"
But it Is, Mark!" cried out Kate
sbreathlessly. Sits mother; my own
mother! Oh. help me dearest. quickly,
she has tainted awayi" 4
But she was all right again, present
ly, sitting by the fire with her feet on