The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1888-03-22

swered. saying nothing Of tho dreadful
weakness and WEAKNESS that was
stealing over him, while the old. sharp
pain never relaxed it steady, distress
ing hold.
At lunch time he could eat nothing,
although the boys were profuse in
their offers to share with him. IL am
not hungry" he said. The very words
choked him: the food would have
done the same.
Work was resumed, but the tramp
was not with the rest. He would 90
out for breath of fresh air, he said.
but he did not return.
II guess slug seven's sub has jump.
ed his cases." remarked one of the
men to the foreman; he went out at
lunch time for q breath of fresh air he
said"
"Or a drink" remarked another.
mo matter, thirty is on the hook"
Cilck, click, went the type in the
sticks: The sleepy galley bov was
reused Tor his last task that night:
the last form went rafting down the
elevator to the press-room, and still
the sub" did not return.
"Gone to look for lodgings, per.
haps," laughed one, as the gang stood
! al ound the sink. each waiting his turn
at the soap and water and mourning
towel.
"He'll find them in the city hall; he
looks like a. rough customer" said an.
other.
"A very quiet sort of fellow, I
thought" said them an who had work.
ed beside him. "He was sick and
tired; all he wants is good nights
rest"
"And clean shirt"
"And q shave"
"Oh, come now, hoys; you may be
on the road yourselves, yet, and look
as rough as this man.
Not while l can stand of the bar.
Der and the tailor" was the answer.
But the tramp where was he! A
little bewildercd by the change from
the lights of the composing-room TO
the dimly-lighted street, he stood for
a moment, scarcely knowing where he
was.
The fire of fever was in his eyes, the
flush OF lever in his rough cheeks; his
head felt heavy and his heart bound.
ed against his side unanimously.
lie walked slowly down the street,
farther and farther, turning here and
there, heedlessly-going he knew not
wherein any direction to escape
that ringing in his ears, and the terri
BILE pain that clutched at every
breath.
The city lights grew farther apart
the brick blocks faded away into
quiet country roads. Still he walked
on until, half unconscious he sank be.
side the way, and could 90 no farther.
The shabby hat fell back from his
head, revealing forehead broad and
high; the great, sad eyes gazed up in
an unseeing way at the moon that
drifted overhead, and looked down at
him pityingly from it's fight through
heavy clouds.
Then bet ween his face and tho night
sky there crept picture. A long. low,
vine. covered house-a porch in front
where a woman stood, one hand on
the head OF boy-a slender, pale-faced
lad, with, great, sad eyes. She kissed
his lips, and held his hand and muir.
INJURED blessings on her child as he loft
her standing alone beneath the vines
and climbing roses.
Then another scene drifted through
the dulled and weary brain. A place
where mirth and wine and revclry ran
high, and one there-the gayest of the
gay-a man with a pale face and sad
eyes, belying ms own nature by the
words he uttered. A messenger at the
door-a telegram thrust into his
hands-"Your mother is dead"-then
followed a blank.
The moon wadel through an inter-
vening cloud. and by it's light the dy-
ing man saw still another picture.
Wrapped in the roles that angels
wear, descending to his side in the
track of g. quivering ray OF moonlight.
she came-his mother. She lifted his
head to her breast, the weary head
that had missed caressing 80 long; she
pressed her lips to his, and the
kiss went like new wine to his very
heart, she touched with her soft
fingers his tired eyes, and they closed
III d long and undisturbed sleep,
never to open again till the last
trump sounds through the startled
skies.
No more weary miles; no more days
hunger and loneliness aud cold. Rest,
perfect rest, for feet and hand and
heart and brain,