Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1885-03-26


Albert ana Will, my boys, were old
er than the girls /; Albert in business
with me, and Will at college, the win
ter when Joanna and Susie made their
debut.
1t would take me quite too long to
tell of the pleasure of the young folks
during this winter, but Joanna was
won from us by Cuban gentleman,
and Susie became, if possible dearer
than ever.
Spring had come, when one evening
Albert came into my library, where |
was ploddng over book, ,haylng work
ed busily all day. He fused about the
books in a nervous way, quite unlike
his usual quiet manner and finally
said ID:
"Father, YOU have often said Susie Is
as dear to you as one of your own chill
dren."
looked up amazed at this opening
speech.
"Well ?" | asked.
"Will you make her your daughter
in fact by giving her to me for a
wife ?"
Dear dear To think / had been
so blind. Susie had in truth become
so much one of our children that l was
as much astonished as il Albert had
fallen In love with Joanna.
But soon found, when Susie's blush
ing face was hidden upon my breast,
that she, zoo, 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 I gave them a house next our ow1
for home, having old-fashioned i'd cas-
about such matters, and believing 1t is
better for young married people to live
by themselves and assume housek eep-
ing cares.
The new home was gem OF neat
ness under Susie's dainty fingers, and
the spirit of perfect love kept it ever
bright. Having been brother and sis
ter for so many years, Albert aud Susie
Thoroughly understood each others
dispositions and | have never known
domestic happiness more perfect than
theirs.
Susie's first child, named for her
father, John Harmon, was two years
old, when the mail brought Inc letter
in an unknown hand from Cincinnati.
1 opened it, and upon large sheet of
paper found written, in scrawlipg,
uneven hand, three lines:
DEAR SIR Will you come to me
at 4S M street. without letting
Susie know. JOHN HARMON.
At first believed it was hoax,
John had written a bold, clerk like
hand, clear as print. This was scrawl,
struggling all over the paper, uneven
as the first penmanship of little child.
But the more | pondered over the
matter the more I was inclined to obey
the summons. So, pleading business,
saying nothing of the letter to any one,
l left home by the night train for Gin
cinnatl.
No. At NJ street found to be
boarding house for the poorest class
es, and in shabby room, half furnish
ed, found an aged worn man, per-
fectly blind, who rose to greet me, Sob
bing.
Erred, knew you would come"
"Why, old FRIEND" said, when sur
priss and emotion would let me speak,
"how is this We thought you were
dead y
s'Does Susj 'h'nk so ?"
eS.. we dill gave you up.
"Do not undeceive her, Fred. l
meant to come home to her rich, able
to gratify 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 we'll ? 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 l tell you folks
say he is his father oyer again."
Il would ask no more for my child, ,
said John.
Then, in answer to my anxious ques-
tions, he told me the story of the years
of silence. He was preparing to pay
US his promised visit when a great fire
bl oke out in San Francisco, that ruin
ed his employer for the time, and swep
away a row of building uninsured, il
which John had invested all his saw.
ings. Worst of all, IN trying to save
the books of the firm, John was injured
on the head by a falling beam, and la.
for months in hospital. When he 81
far recovered AS TO be discharged, hi
mind was still impaired, aid he coult