The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1885-12-09

ton and moved there. They still attended
the same church, but met less frequently
than before
In business, the difference of character
showed itself at once, in their methods,
and consequently in their success.
Francis became quite wealthy; Frank,
though not poor, was never prosperous.
His children became something of trial
to him as years went on. The heredi-
tary impulsiveness led them into all
manner of difficulties, some of them ex-
pensive; and in marked contrast were
the sensible, sedatc boys of Francis.
The latter had two sons and one
daughter, named Aida; while Frank had
seven boisterous boys.
In little Aida Denham, lay all the hid
den grace and unexpressed tenderness of
her fathers nature. She was the poem
OF his fe,-the fair-haired Aida he called
her, dimly remembering some old Saxon
heroine
She was, indeed wonderfully lovely
child, rather silent, passonately fond of
her father, devoted to mother and broth
ers; yet with room in her gentle heart
for a nameless host of pets. She knew
about the family trouble-had hearc it
talked of-all the moro since her broth
ers met their cousins at the public
school.
The latter, to do them justice, would
have fraternized in rough and ready
school-boy fashion, but Francis Den
HAMS two sons drew back. They had
their fathers disposition in some degree,
and reserve was more natural to them
than hasty friendship. Beside, they
knew about the trouble, and thought
their Unlce Frank had behaved in a very
unjust fashion. So when Franks chill
dren reported at home how "stuck-up"
and insolent Herbert and Morris Den
ham were, their needless father burst out
before them with violent expressions Of
hatred.
"Don't, father" said his wife; "don't
talk so before the boys. 1t does them
harm, and does you n good"
Bother the boys 'i said Frank; "they
are always around when Pm at my
worst" Then, relenting, "See here,
lads, your mother is right; 1 ought not
to speak against your uncle to you in
this way ay-but-then-he would make a
saint mad!"
Naturally enough, an amend of this
mixed nature did not change the boys
feelings. They did not actually hate
their prim, scholarly cousins, but did
enjoy irritating them. Space is lacking
to tell their ingenious proficiency in this
art. They soaped the floor, to see Her
bert measure his length on it. They
tripped up Morris, and chalked big letters
on his back. Finally, Willy Denham put
chalk into Herbert's inkstand. Of course
the ink effervesced, and ran all over the
desk, spelling among things of less value
the Greek theme which Herbert had Just
with some pains, completed. This piece
of mischief was traced home to its per-
petrator, and he was soundly whipped.
Small good came from the punish
ment, however, for the offender was over
petted at home to make up the indignity;
and Herbert's father was not aushed,
and thought Willy should have been ex-
PEELED. If anything could have widened
the breach, it would have been this; for
paternal feelings as we'll as brotherly
were in conflict. But after a while,
things settled down into the old groove.
There was less active annoyance in
school, though n strong undercurrent of
dislike was always present.
Thus matters were, when. the little
fair haired Aida was eight years old.
Two things happened this year. Frank
Dcnhams two youngest sons were
drowned when out skating, and Francis
Denham had dangerous illness. He
was terribly grieved by his brothers mis-
fortune aud would have made up the
quarrel if ne could but by this time it
was beyond his power. He did try to
say a few words of sympathy when they
first met, after the accident, but the
mourning father repulsed him.
mo, sir" said he, sternly, and not
without dignity; 'when things went
we'll with me, YOU passed me by; now
that my boys have left me, and my heart
is broken, you need not intrude. The
grief is mine, not yours, and God will
give me all the comfort deserve"
"The grief is mine, too" began
Francis, and this was much for him to
say; but his brother had passed out of
hearing, and he made no further attempt.
Still, in secret, his thoughts were upon
him, and when he had fever, they were
the burden of his delirium, and retarded
his recovery.
Aida was with him grclt deal during
his convalescence. Her quietness and
gentleness made her peculiarly in place
in the sick room, and half-unconsciously
to himself. she became her fathers con-
fdante. They had always been intimate
from the time she could talk, and very
naturally, in his weakness, he talked to
her of the past,
There was a magnetic something in
the child that inspired trust in all. 1t
was not that she was older then her
years, for she delighted in dolls and
childish sports. 1t was more as though
she were a child of some high order, free
from the usual pettiness and narrowness
of youth. She was full of life, while at
the same time sensitive and thoughtful
--simpatica. as the Italians say.
Now in the sick room her father found
strange comfort in the unburdening to
her the thoughts and feelings that