Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1885-01-07

That we had succeeded only too well
was shown by her sorrow, when week
after week passed, and there was no
good news from California.
When we had really lost all hope it
became Susie's great pleasure to sit be-
side me and ask me again and again for
the stories I remembered of her fathers
boyhood and youth, his college life, our
many excursions, and, above all, of his
marriage and the gentle wife and moth
er so early called to heaven.
She dearly loved those talks, and
no memories were more precious than
my description of her fathers pain in
parting from her, and his desire to win
money in California only for her.
Time softened Susie's grief, and at
eighteen she was enc of the sweetest,
most winning girls ever saw. Without
being a wonder of erudition, she was
we'll educated, had fair musical talent,
and sweet, well cultivated voice. She
was tall and graceful, and when she was
introduced to society with Joanna, my
handsome brunette daughter, both be-
came popular,
Albert and VIII, my boys, were old
er than the girls; Albert in business
with me, and Will at college the winter
when Joanna and Susie made their
| debut.
Il would take me quite too long to
tell of the pleasures of the young folks
during this winter, but Joanna was
won from us by a Cuban gentleman,
and Susie became, if possible, dearer
than ever.
Spring had come, when one evening
Albert came into my library, where I
was nodding over book, having worked
busily all day. He fused about the
books in nervous way, quite unlike
his usual quiet manner, and finally said,
abruptly:
Father, you have often said Susie is
as dear to you as one of your own chill
dren."
looked up amazed at the opening
speech.
"Well?" I asked.
will you make her your daughter in
fact by giving her to me for wife?"
Lear! DEAR To think I had been so
blind. Susie had in truth become so
much one of our children that I
was as much astonished as if Albert had
fallen in love with Joanna.
But [ soon found, when Susie's
blushing face was hidden upon my
breast, that she, too, had given away
her heart, and I was only too well
pleased that no stranger had won the
precious gift.
In September they were married, my
son and the child of our adoption, and
l gave them house next our own for a
home, having old-fashioned ideas about
such matters, and believing it is better
for young married people to live by
themselves and assume housekeeping
cares.
Inc new nome was gem OF neatness
under Susie's dainty fingers, and the
spirit of perfect love kept it ever bright.
Having been brother and sister for so
many years, Albert and Susie thorough
ly understood each others dispositions,
and have never known domestic hap
piness more perfect than theirs.
Susie's first child, named for her
father, John Harmon, was two years
old, when one morning the mail brought
me letter in an unknown hand from
Cincinnati. [ opened it, and upon a
large sheet of paper found written, in a
scrawling hand, three lines:
DEAR SIR: viii you come to me at At NJ
Street without letting Susie know.
JOHN HARMON.
At first I believed it hoax. John
had written bold, clerk-like hand, clear
as print. This was a scrawl, struggling
all over the paper, uneven as the first
penmanship of little child.
But the more pondered over the
matter the more / was inclined to obey
the summons. So pleading business,
saying nothing of the letter to any one,
left by the night train for Cincinnati.
No. At M--Street I found to be
boarding house for the poorest classes,
and in shabby room, half furnished, [
found an aged, worn man, perfectly
blind, who rose to greet me sobbing.
Fred, knew you would come"
"Why, old friend" I said, when sur
prise and emotion would let me speak,
show is this? We thought you were
dead"
docs Susie think SOP"
Eyes. We all gave you up"
"Do not undeceive her, Fred. I
meant to come back to her rich, also to
crafty every desire of her girlish heart.
Do not let her know that only blind,
sick wreck is left for her to call father.
Tell me of her, Fred. Is she well? Is
she happy?
"She is both, John-a happy wife and
mother"
married? My little Susie?"
Married to Albert, my son, of whom
you may Judge when I tell you folks
say he is his father over again"
Il would ask no more for my child, :"
said John.
Then in answer to my anxious ques-
tions he told me of the years of silence.
He was prepared to pay us his promised
visit when great fire broke out in San
Francisco, that ruined his employers
for the time and swept away row of
buildings uninsured in which John had
invested all his savings. Worst of all,
in trying to save the books of the firm