Wichita eagle., 1888-05-23

| New DIX. 80 Jest Went an asked JOnn 70
look arter the cattle for while, an the very
next mornin' / put on my Sunday suit
wouldn't know it naow-an' packed the
greenbacks I'd jest TUX for my Durham steers
into my wallet, that
Here the narrator broke down with emo
ton, recalling the loss he had suffered on his
landing in the ''wicked city"
But / didn't know York was SIGH pesky
| big city, full o. lunatics rushin' agin one
anuther, an ev'rything a thunderin' like a
hundred thousan' thrashin' machines with
the bands flynn off. l couldn't find emmy
| body to direct me where to look for Sary
| Lily Nobody knowed an nobody cared
nothin' bout her. Then, as told ye, a dumb
sneak stole my pocketbook, an instid o. him
gettin' shot UP, why, got shot up, an so l
h'ain't found Sary Lily yet keep lookin'
out for her all tn time, but l swun fer it, ]
dunno s I'd know tn gal eff l should meet
her in tn road, things look so dumb queer in
tn city, so different from they do in Maple
| taown. Dretful place fur the poor child to
be in"
The woman, who had sat listening in stolid
silence to this simple sincere story, rose sud.
denly to her feet, pushed back the head wrap
which had concealed her face and made a
step toward the old man.
Par she CALCULATED, in a choking voice.
putting out her hands.
''Sary Lily! Oh, my Lordr' breathed the
astonished vagrant, staring open mouthed at
the face before him as though it had risen
suddenly from the dead.
But at that moment an officer, laying q
firm hand on the excited old mans shoulder,
ordered him quietly to his place.
John Sampson, coming out of Deacon Ma
sons barn, where he had seen the waiting
herds beautifully fed and stalled for the
night was hailed by a rural horseman riding
up to the door
''Here's a letter fer We, John. Bein' at the
postolIice, jest TUX notion to inquire fer
ye. Thought n1ebbe We was too busy to 90
yerself. It's from New York" explained the
self elected postman, as John, W tn cold
thanks, put the officiously delivered mail in
his pocket. Thought mebbe it was from
the deacon" pursued the bearer, with baffled
curiosity.
John, carefully adjusting the paddock and
| turning the key on the deacon's possessions.
made no remark; but as the horseman wheeled
away with an irate Get up" he drew out
the letter, core it hurriedly open and read.
with a stern compression of his auburn
! bearded mouth, the following communica-
ton:
OKE STREAT PoLLTsE STAsHUy.
Jan. %, 1883.
DEER JoHs-Ive fownd her, but line in Trouble.
I've been robbed. I've lost al my mummy. can't
git home no moren she coud. The poor child is
all broke up. She don't want ennything but TO be-
| forgot by everybody. She ouldnt let me rite to
you no moren nothin if she knu but line in
! Trouble John an you're my best man. Plese to
send me 20 dollars lie settle with yew when l
git home. Send it to this place. / can ask IA
vor OF yew kwicker than of most any body els
| Perticklers when l see yew. Your loving friend,
EBEN G. MASON.
John crushed the letter into his pocket
with sterner setting of his jaws
''That's what I'll do" he said, with COM
ment on the impulse that had seized him,
AMI he strobe off to his own quarters on the
adjoining farm.
Charlie, he called, as he stepped into the
wide farm house kitchen, "can you and Jim
attend squarely to things here and at Masons
! for the next twenty-four hours?"
| "You bet ~ responded lank youth, with
/ more brevity than elegance.
Mother" pursued the resolute John, who
appeared the motive power in the establish
ment, please hurry up supper l want to
take the evening train to New York"
"Why-why, joint" calculated the mother,
at once on deck for action. "What starts
you off to New York this suddena"
Business"
otis it the deacons l just felt sure the
old simpleton would get into some scrape,n
commented the youthful Charles
''Green as a fresh sap spite, ye know" OBJ
served Jim.
But John was off on his hurried duties of
preparation, and had no explanations to
! offer
When, little later, he came back, equipped
for his journey, and sat down to the hasty
meal which there was only his mother Just
then present to share, she said again timidly:
''Is it the deacon, John"
eyes"
And-and"- She did not venture to
repeat the name which had been a forbidden
topic.
YES" again assented John.
John, l didn't think you'd be troubling
yourself TO look after herl" was the reproach-
ful retort of Mother Sampson
I'm not troubling myself, d" returned John.
swallowing a very hot mouthful of tea
"John, you know her good name is gone
forever" solemnly warned the prudent wo-
man.
''Some of us Christians ought to try and
give her one, them" mildly suggested the IT.
rational young man.
"John, when a young woman is deceived
and led away there's no hopen-
Mother, what is that fine story about the
prodigal sonf interrupted John, moving
back his chair.
Oh! but that's very different, john
''You mean,n said John, jumping into his
overcoat and tucking down his mutier, you
mean the prodigal daughter may go to perdi-
ton"
joint"
Mrs Sampson sat down In shocked sur
prise This was profanity
well, WE'LL John finished the last button
and turned with his hand upon the door.
Take care Of yourself, mother, and look for
me back tomorrow evening. Good night.
Don't worry"
And John was Off.
Record doth not say whether it was found
necessary iii Mapletown to send any one
after John.
There is now a meek, sad little woman in
the deacon's house, who brushes her hair
smoothly back. and wears the plainest and
poorest of gowns, and works at the hardest
tasks as though there were some atonins
power in labor.
The good rural folk who look after the
morals of their neighbors report that John
Sampson goes to the deacon's about as he did
before"
They do not explain the significance of
i'Before"
The women say John is fool.
The men observe Sphinxhke Silence
Frank LeSlie'S