The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1886-09-14
a LETTER AND A TELE'
GRAM.
Eastport Standard.


this'n will cut"
Its pity you writ it so hard, father"
said his young daughter, trembling; "it'l
hurt her to the heart; she didn't never mean
to borry that $500, and then cheat you out
o. it,"
''She didn't, Ell? Then why hain't the
money back in my pocket, safe and sound?
It's a year last Christmas since she pestered
me bout it, and hain't seen hide nor hair
ont yet; if that amt clear case o. cheatin',
Fanny, I'd like to know what you call it p
The girl stopped churning moment, and
wiped a sureptitious tear from her eyelid
before she answered:
"Call it nothing, father, but bad luck;
when Sister Mary borryed that money to lift
the mortgage, she expected to pay it backs
but you know as how Brother John he wa;
took with the rheumatics, and the overflow
came, and the crop was ruined and then she
couldn't pay; that's all, and God knows it's
enoughW
"'Twasn't my fault" snapped her father,
fercely, as he pounded on the kitchen table
to give vent to his anger. Il never put it in
the agreement to low for overflows, and
rheumatics, and such like, and | never
would ha' lent her the $500 if it hadn't been
for your snifin' and pesterin'. And now ye
hear, gal, not anuther dime O. my earnins
shall they ever smell, and I'll never forgive
-"
The girl sprang up from the churn, crying,
mo, father, don't say it-dont say 1t, father,
you'll be sorry some day when it's too late;
besides your church member, you know"
''You're right bout that, said Mr.. Brown,
perversely; "Pm a church member and don't
owe nary person a red cent, and the Bible
says, AN eye for an eye, and a tooth for
tooth, and I'm going to have it!''
he pounded the table again with his fists,
after fashion he had of wanting to pound
something or somebody when he felt partic-
ularly aggressive. But the sound of his
voice had scarcely died away, when there
came knock at the door, and one of those
Ominens yellow envelopes, marked with the
impress Of nae Western Union Telegraph
Company, was handed in. Mr.. Brown took
it, and looked it over in helpless kind Of
fashion before breaking the seal. How
much to pay he asked the boy, and passed
over to him the change with trembling hand !;
though it was characteristic of the man that
even then, with the knowledge that the tele-
gram must contain terrible news, he was
careful to count the dimes as they dropped
back into his pocket. Oh, those cruel tele-
grams! Do the company ever remorsefully
count the breaking hearts that are left in the
wake of the messengers? Mr.. Brown was
hard man, and loved his money-bags over
well, but somewhere beneath the rough out
ward crusts there was an abiding affection
for his children that needed something like
the stirring of the soil around the violet-beds
to loosen the selfish bonds, and give his love
a human voice. And when he read these
words, Mary died this evening; come as
once" great, sudden anguish filled his
breast, and silently handing the dispatch to
Fanny, he walked from the kitchen and shut
himself up in his own room, where years be-
fore death had made sundry visits. He did
not cry out or fall, or make any sign that he
was grief-strieken, but he was hurt to the
soul, and great remorse made him sick and
faint. He had never put it in the agreement
about sickness, overfows and bad crops, as
he had just said; neither had he put i'm
that Mary, in her young blooming matron-
hood days, should die-his first born! How
could he bear it? and it was all the harder
because of the cruel words he had uttered
while she lay dead at home. Did he say he
would never forgive her-did he really-real-
ly say that? Fanny had tried to stop him,
and brought it to his mind that he was a
''church member" and Christian. AS if a
father ought to be merely Christian to his
own child. Why hadn't he given her the
money? Might have done so five times over
and never missed it, And the old man
groaned remorsefully, as with these thoughts
in his heart, his gaze wandered over the
great field where the cotton would soon be
shimmering, feecy sea- bringing new treas
ures to his boarded gains, and making no
hearts happy save his own.
Those few, poorly situated acres of Johns
and Mary's! Swamped by the overflow last
spring, stock drowned, and John, wading
waist deep, fighting with the waters, laid up
with the rheumatics.
Suppose he had given them thousand dol
lars!
Oh, the sting of remembering evil when it
is to late to turn evil into good. And then
there was that unkind letter. Did his child
read those cruel words with the dying light
in her eyes, OF would it be left for the strick-
en- husband to be treated to the short, stern
homilyl
He went back to the kitchen, where Fan
ny sat crying over the telegram. Lock up
the house." he said in hurried way, for
fear that his voice would falter; well 90 at
once. I'll hitch up while you get ready"
And when they had started on their long
Journey he quite broke down in talking over
the past and telling Fanny little things here
and there that no one would have supposed
he had remembered
MARY was allus dutiful darter," he said,
putting into broken sentences the grief and
remorse that overwhelmed him; latter her
ma died, and she wasn't knee-high to a
duck, she was like second parent to the
little uns; nussed 'em through the measles,
and when they was well, took it herself, and
laid as quiet on the bed for fear of giving
trouble as if she warn't a child"
He didn't tell her of how, when the second
Mrs. Brown was installed as mistress, Mary
became the drudge and maid-of-all-work,
and was nurse to half-dozen more little
Browns, who, like their mother, ruled her
with rod of iron. Nor of Mary's marriage
with sturdy young fellow, who, for the
lack Of little timely help, and the pressure
of large family, was kept with his nose to
the perpetual grindstone.
He did not tell how Mary pinched and
worked and sat up until late hours, and
struggled to help her family, until in conse-
quenee of doctors bills, and babies, and
poor crops, John was forced to give mort
gage on his house, when he (the father
might have lifted them out of their poverty.
He might even have given them better
house; the oldest inhabitant could not re-
member when the ugly, ramshackle affair
had been built Some ancient ancestors had
put up couple of rooms, then added on a
few more, until, what with patching and
propping up, Johns inheritance was an Of
fence to the eye.
Mr.. Brown thought bitterly of all this
through the long journey. Too late, toe
late seemed written in words of fire on every
tree and shrub. At last the house was in