New Ulm weekly review., 1886-06-09

arms out to me, so she could put 'em
around me an press her poor, pale
face against mine.
".Father,' she whispered, I went
back on yer-on yer who'd been so
good an kind to me; an father, l
want yer to say before die as you've
forgiven me-
81 couldn't say nothin, mister, l
just held her closer; but I guess as when
she felt my tears rollin down on her
face she know'd she'd got what she'd
wanted. Iheld her till they told me
she couldn't speak no more, an then
| laid her back. It was only few
minutes after that she lived, but afore
she died she opened her eyes once more
an moved her lips, / bent down to her
an she could just whisper:
".Father, Pm sure yer haven't gone
back on me. Pm sure yer forgive me.
But-father-I want you to forgive
him too. For-father-Ive for
given" !;
The old man buried his face in his
hands and sobbed, while the dog
moved up close to his master and
howled piteously. The piano was
still jangling in the other room and
the singing was at its loudest. But
he didn't seem to hear it.
After a while, though, they got
through, and missing him, began to call
for him. But after he went out he
passed his hand gently over the dogs
back and said, turning to me: ri for
give her, mister; and I've tried to
forgive him. But it's more than a
poor old man like rue can do. III try
again, mister; I'll try hard for her
sake. I know as his sin a-goin' to
drive him back here sometime
drive him back that he may 60 on his
knees to me and tell me how he
wronged her an me-"
I had always been fond of Uncle
Jake, but after what he had told me I
liked him better than ever. l knew
that his "little girl's'' death weighed
heavily on him; and so after that
got up as many parties as could to
visit the tavern to cheer him up One
day towards autumn, two years aft
erwards, he called me aside and said:
"Mister, it's gettin, kind o. lonesome
for the dog an me down here winters,
an I guess i wont stay here no longer
after the fall. I've got a house as I
took over in the village ashore yon-
der, near to where the little girls
buried The dog an wants to be
near Maggie an if yerll come down
off an on we'll be glad 20 see yer, for
it amt much company We'll be
havln'."
Well, Uncle Jake took thehouse and
I did 90 down as often as I could. He
made things right comfortable in the
little house. On the cold winter
nights he had a big log fire blazing on
the open hearth and kettle of hot
water for the punch singing cheerily
over the flames. In front was a big
woolly rug on which the dog stretched
himself, rising only occasionally to
come over to his master and lick his
hands. The old dog had learned
the way to the 'little girls"
grave very soon, and on days
when it was too stormy for the
old man to go to it himself, Samson
would trot off and see that all was at
rights.
The blazing logs and the singing ket-
tie seemed particularly CHEEKY on
January night A fierce wind was
bowling around the house. 1t had
been showing all day, but as it grew
colder the snow had stopped, and now
the gusts sent icy particles rattling
against the windows. The dog seemed
sleeping peacefully-at least he hadn' t
stirred-when Uncle Jake went to the
hearth to lift the kettle. The old man
had brewed a punch, and was just
raising the glass to his lips, when sud
denly Samson sprang toward one of
the windows with a furious bark As
turned in the direction in which he
sprang, what l saw might have been
an Illusion, it vanished SO quickly-a
mans face, pale, haggard and driven,
pressed against the pane. A moment
later the dog was leaping against the
door. Isprang toward it and threw
it open. The fierce gust that swept IN
nearly threw me back, but l held on
and saw the black figure of the dog
SpCOo1A1S COW c1Iu CllC S3dCc where lie
stopped, still barking furiously as he
tried to overleap it. called him
back, but he would not come, and
there he remained barking for half an
hour after l had closed the door.
told Uncle Jake that I thought man
had been out there, but all he said
was: II guess it was one O. them
tramps as comes around. Samson
ain t particular fond o. them. But il
the fellow was cold and wanted
drink why didn't he knock an ask for
it decent like. Sure he'd ha' got it,"
The next morning was bright and
clear and very cold. AS the wind had
subsided, Uncle Jake proposed to 90
over to the graveyard-he hardly let
day pass without going there The
graveyard was little enclosure a triAe
further out OF the village than our
house. AS we entered the gate the
dog suddenly darted forward barking
furiously as he had the night before.
Following him hastily we saw what he
was barking at. A thin, white hand
had clasped the headstone, and over