Connecticut western news., 1885-02-11

long cramped in the car-seats, I proposed to walk home.
 "Is it not too far off2" John asked. 'I thought the asylum was long way from here."
 "Oh, the whole place is changed from the little village you left p answered; "We have great town here now, and your asylum is not very far from here. ,"
 He let me lead him then, willingly enough, and we were not long in reach ing Susie's home. She was alone in the cheerful sitting-room as we entered, but obayed my motion for silence, as l placed John in great armchair, after removing his hat and coat He looked wretchedly old and worn, and his clothes were shabby, yet Susie's soft eyes, misty with tears, had only love in their expres- sion as she waited permission to speak.
 "John," said to him, Eff had found you in pleasant home, happy and prosperous, and had known that Susie was poor, sick and blind, would E have been a kindly act for me to hide her misfortune from you, and passing by your home, to have placed her in the care of charitable strangers ?"
 "Fred., you would never have done that Y he said, much agitated.
 "Never !'I answered. "You are right. But you, John, ask me to take from Susie tho happiness of knowing fathers love, the sweet duty of caring for fathers alaiction."
 "No, no, Fred, I only ask you to put no burden upon her young life, tothrow no cloud over her happiness. I am old and feeble; I shall trouble no one long,"
 "And when you die, you would de- prive your only child of the satisfaction of ministering to your wants-take from her her fathers blessing" He turned his sightless eyes toward me, his whole face working convul- sively.
 "Where is she, Fred. You would not talk so if you did not know my child still loves her father.'
 '1 am here, father," Susie said; and stole softly away, as John clasped his child in his arms. Albert was in the dining-room with Johnnie, and I was chatting still with him, when I heard John calling:
 "Fred Fred. p
 I hurried to the room to find him struggling to rise, Susie vainly trying to | calm him.
 I want my child p he cried, deliri- ously. "you promised me my child l"
 I saw at glance that the agitation of the evening had brought back the wan dering mind, of which he had tc!d me. Albert and released Susie, who left us | quickly.
 Some finer instinct than we possessed guided her, for she returned with Johu- nie, and whispering him to be very good and kiss grandpapa, she put him in | her fathers arms. In second his ex- citement was gone, and he fondled the curly head, while Johnnie obediently pressed his lips upon the withered cheek. So, in little time, they fell asleep, Johnnie nestled in the feeble arms, md the withered face dropping upon the golden curls. We watched them silently, till we saw shadow pass over Johns face, and Q change settle there that comes but once in life. Gently Albert lifted the sleeping child, and carried him to the nursery, while Susie and I sat beside the armchair.
 "UncIe Fred" she whispered, "Al- bert will go for a doctor. But may l waken him? Let him speak to me once more p
 Even as she spoke John opened his eyes. All the wild look was gone from them as he groped a moment till Susie put her hands in his. Then heavenly smile came upon the wasted lips, and he said softly, tenderly:
 "Susie, my own little child, Susie"
 And with the name on his lips Johns spirit went to seek an eternal asylum, in which there will be no more poverty, pain or blindness.