Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1888-02-09
TOO LATE.

1t was place where poverty had long
made its home. BY the fireless stove
sat a man of rather powerful physique in
detected attitude, his heavy, bleared
eyes fixed upon vacancy.
In one corner of the room, upon a mean
bed, a little child lay, with pallid, want
pinched features, moaning, with closed
eyes, at intervals.
"Water, water" she cried family, and
listlessly arose the man and placed cup
to her fever -parched lips.
Her large eyes opened and fixed them
selves upon his face.
"Father," she said, as a shudder shook
her frame, ''father!''
'Yes," said the man, stolidly. "Your
mothers gone out to her work. Do you
want anything?"
"Want anythingp' exclaimed the child,
family gazing about the nearly empty
room; "aoaat anything?"
He caught her glance and spasm of
pain contracted his features.
"Want," she again moaned, turning
her head YEARLY upon the pillow; ''it's
always been want for mother and me,
ever since | can remember"
The mans fingers worked convulsively
as he replied:
"And for your poor old father, too,
Lena. Don't forget your father, who
loves you So"
A smile broke over her face.
"LOve me?" and her little hand timid-
ly sought his. "Oh, father"
"FOrgive me Lena" he cried, "forgive
me. l were drunk when L struck ye
down, and didn't know what 1 were
doin'."
Drunk" she said simply. "Yes."
He bowed his head, while the tears
trickled down his Incorporate face.
She tried to lift her face to his, but a
groan of agony broke from her lips.
aye are sufferin', Lena?"
'My head, oh, my head" she moaned,
stirring it uneasily and disclosing a
much discOlored temple. at bleeds in
side, father, think, but never mind"
she added, marking his shame, "never
mind. You never struck me so hard
before. I'll get well though, and you
know II saved mother, poor mother"
Her eyes closed, and seemingly she
slept.
The man resumed his place beside the
stove, his chin dropped upon his breast,
and silence-only disturbed at intervals
by faint moan from the child-flled
the room.
The afternoon waned, and the chill of
a November twilight presently shook the
mans frame. Night had fallen when
the door opened and fragile, toil-worn
woman entered the room. 1t was the
wife and mother. The child stirred, and
smiled into the eyes of the compassion
ate ones above her. Mother" she muir
INJURED, "dear mother"
"Did ye get your money!" eagerly in
quired the man.
"Only part of it, said the weary wom-
an. "NIrs. Brown always leaves some
thing over, yet she has plenty of money.
There are some cold scraps if you want
them"
"I'm not hungry" said the shivering
man, "but | want to get Lena an orange
or two. She's been asking for 'em," he
added in a low voice, turning his face
from her sad eyes.
"I'm so tired" answered the wife, "and
-and-I can't trust you John, to go.
You'll not come back"
"Yes l will, oh yes l will" he replied,
eagerly, "and bring wood for fire. I'll
hev to watch by Lena while you sleep
tonight, and it's very cold. I'm chang
ed man, wife-a changed man. No
more want, no more drink, no more
blows. I'll be a mGRr
A look Of hope filled her eyes. She
had caught at the straws of his promises,
oh, how many times, how many timesl
but his tone this night was SO convinc-
ing, the sob in his throat, the tear in his
eye so unwonted, that, despite the past
with its broken promises and failures,
new hope, sweet and strange, thrilled
her being.
She gave him the few bits of silver.
He stopped over the child, as he turned
to leave the room, and pressed his lips
to hers.
Dear father" said the delighted child,
''it's so long since you kissed me. Wake
me up that way in the morning, and if
l groan through the night, don't think
of the blow, but kiss me, and I'll smile
through the pain perhaps"