Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1885-01-01
to my own town. You will take me.

to my own town. You will take me,
Fred?"
st will take you to an asylum,
John,"I promised
"And Susie? You will keep nv
secret. You will not disturb Susie's
happiness?"
81 will not trouble Susie's happi-
ness" said.
Yet an hour later / was writing to
| Susie, and / delayed our departure
from Cincinnati until an answer
came. It was the answer I expected
from the tender, loving heart, but 1
said nothing of it to John.
Caring tenderly for his comfort. I
took him on his way homeward. It
was evening when we reached the
railway depot of our own town, and,
as we had been long crapoped in the
car seats, proposed to walk home.
SIS it not too far OFF," John ask
ed. 81 thought the asylum was
long way from here"
ooh, the whole place is changed
from the little village you left!' I
ans wered. "We have a 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
reaching Susie's home. She was alone
in the cheerful sitting-room as we
entered, but obeyed my motion for
silence as I placed JOAN in q great
arm chair, after removing his hat
cd To 101I~oI al o4oI
edly worn, and his clothes were
shabby, yet Susie's soft eyes, misty
with tears, haG only love in their ex-
preston as she waited permission to
speak.
John" I said to him, eff I had
found you in pleasant home, happy
and prosperous, and [ knew that
Susie was poor, sick and blind, would
it 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 stran-
gers9"
Fred, you would never have done
thatr' he said, much agAated.
Never" answered. ''You are
right. But you, John, ask me to take
from Susie the happiness of knowing
a fathers love, the sweet duty of car
ing for fathers affection"
mo, no, Fred, I only ask you to
put no burden upon her young life,
to throw no cloud over her happiness.
I am old ard feeble; I shall trouble
no one long"
And when you die, you will de-
rive your only child the satisfaction
of ministering to your wants-take
from her her fathers dying blessing"
He turned his sightless eyes to-
ward me, his whole face working con
vulsively.
''Where is she Fred2 You would
not talk SO if you did not know my
child still loves her father"
II am here, father" Susie said and
stole softly aSay 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! Fredw
I hurried to the room to find him
struggling to rise, Susie vainly try
ing to calm him.
''I want my childw he cried,
deliriously; ''you promised me my
chila."
say at glance that the agitation
of the evening had brought back the
wandering mind of which he had told
me. Albert and I relieved Susie,
who left us quickly.
Some finer instinct than we pos
sessed guided her, for she returned
with Johnnie and whispered him to
very good and kiss grandpapa. She
put him in her fathers arms. In a
second his excitement was gone, and
he fondled the curley head, while
Johnnie obediently pressed his lips
upon the withered cheek. So in a
little time, they fell asleep, Johnnie
nestled ia the feeble arms, and the
withered face dropping upon the
golden curls. We watched them
silently, till we saw a shadow pass
Johns face, and change settle there
that comes but once in life.
Gently Albert lifted the sleeping
child and carried him to the nursery,
where Susie and / sat beside the arm
chair.
"Uncle Fred" she whispered.
"Albert will 60 for doctor. But may
I waken him. Let HIM speak to me
once more"
Even as she spoke John opened his
eyes. All the wild look was gone
from them as he CROPPED a moment till
Susie put her hands in his. Then a
heavenly smile came upon the wasted
lips, and he said softly, tenderly:
Susie, my own little child, Susie"
Ard with the hame on his lips
Johns spirit went to seek an eternal
asylum In which there will be no
more poverty, pain or blindness.