Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1886-08-20

| "D'ye mean it ?" he inquired with an
eagerness that was only too apparent.
Larcom nodded. There was dull red
flush on his face. David Cartwright
turned to his boy.
| You're to cross the river. Dave" ne
said. "D'ye hear?"
If he heard the boy gave no sign OF
hearing. He stood with his hands clasp
ed before him and his dark eyes looking
far away.
"Taint no less n murder" began old
Tom Seelye: but David Cartwright stop
ped him, striding forward with savagely
uplifted arm.
"Shet yer MOUTH" he exclaimed; and
then his hand fell heavily upon the boys
shrinking shoulder. mo foolin. Dave"
he said; you start"
81 didn't need that to go, father" Davy
said with mild reproach. sid do anything
for her But was thinking of mother,
an oh. father. say it's not for the whiskey
I'm eoin'."
.Say nothiu'. ~ muttered Cartwright.
'Go long"
But still the boy pleaded, clasping his
thir hands.
"Oh, father, please! say it's not tor the
whlskey, father!
mo, then!' Numbered the father.
Now go long, tell We, fore it's too
late"
And Davy went. They watched him in
breathess silence; somehow no one cared
to speak or had anything to say. And on
a sudden wild-eyed woman flung herself
among them, and a shrill mothers voice
rang out:
''Oh, Davy, Davy boy, come back! Oh,
my boy.'
He heard. They saw the little limping
figure pause. and half turn as il irreso-
lutte, then with a wave of the hand hurry
on as before.
ats safe enoughr' said David Cart
wright uneasily. But the mother sank
upon her knees there on the snow soaked
ground and put her hands before her face
and would not look.
He reached the opposite shore in safety,
and q wild cheer followed him as he scram-
up the bank. When he re-appeared there
after what seemed long. long time to
J the watchers the ice still held, though
} heaving like the sea with the pressure of
the water below and the force of the wind
above. The gale had become tempest !;
the black clouds scurried like frightened
hares before it; the earth grew dark, and
suddenly shook beneath their feet,
go back ~ yelled old Tom Seelye, his
face blanching with awful fear. $50
back, tell ye!''
| He might have talked to the wind as
well, since there was no hope that his
voice could reach the ears of the boy who
was now hurrying bravely on over the
tossing ice. Suddenly there came heavy,
thunderous roar; crash as if heaven and
earth had come together a cloud of dash
5 ing spray in air. And then the river
7 rolled before them, a raging torrent full
, of miniature foes, tumbling, grinding
4 past, and the little atom of humanity
Cartwright's boy-had disappeared from
mortal view.
&, A groan, loud. because so common,
burst from the group, and then strained.
awful silence fell. Old Tom Seelye broke
, it, barring his head reverently.
D Lord. ha' mercy" he uttered with
solemn voice, ''he's gone ~
That reused David Cartwright, who had
stood until now as il turned to stone. He
sprung wrathfully toward Larcom.
Course We, it's your doins! p he cried
/ fiercely. Its your doin's ,-curse We for
ever, Hiram Larcom !"
Then his glance fell on his wife, still
upon her knees, poor woman, and gazing
around with dry, wild eyes. though she
spoke no word. His clenched hand fell.
. "Its your doin's-an' NINE" he went
on, talking like one in q dream. 'Lord
forgive us both--an' hear - he added
!, with sudden vehemence. He begged
me to say it wasn't fer the whisky he was
gon' said it-but didn't mean it, Now
, mean it. 1t wasn't for the whisky
hear me all o. you, hear me, Mary, hear
me, God-it isn't for the whisky! For
never drop O the cursed stuff shall pass
my lips again :, p
80 David" the wife cried with a
mighty sob, and then the tears came in a
l hot, binding rush. There were tears, too,
4 on rough cheeks all unused to them and
Jack Larcom was sobbing wildly.
Then Hiram Larcom spoke unsteadilv,
' his right hand raised to heaven,-all his
> manhood asserting itself at length. 'An'
hear me-" he said 1--we sold the last glass
. O. liquor ever will. so help me Cod"
There is little more to tell Later, the
n party organized for search found, upon a
y rocky point a mile below, a tiny heap
2 bruised and battered out of all resemblance
e to anything human, but still clasping in
e one tight-shut hand the vial containing the
U precious portion that had cost life. And
S there were no dry eyes gazing next day
upon the little closed casket which held
It all that was mortal of Cartwright's boy.
Long after, as | set resting in the door
s way of little house that overlooked the
h river. heard the story.
= couldn't be happy nowhere else than
(; here" Davy's mother said. with smile
d that told of tears. Yes, he's ALWAYS
e kept his word, David has, an this place is
e ours an paid for. An we've other chill
dren, too she added, in answer to my
: inqurng glance, as child's voice struck
my ear; three of 'em. They've been to
t the grave yard with Miss Mamie, this
d afternoon. with flowers. They're my own
: an | love 'em; but somehow" she
e shaded her eyes with her hand and gazed
e out upon the river. placid now, and smil
e ing beneath the summer sky. somehow,
e there's no child can ever fill the place
that Davy had. - Good Cheer.