Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1888-02-02

ne dld not propose TO spend the night here,
Of course, and face the family and his job In
the mill In the morning, but he might as
well lie down till the house wos asleep and
escape became possible. But be could not
lie down with all his paint ON and spoil
the poor little pillow. SO he takes of his
yellow whiskers, and makes such good use
Of the basin Of water and the ball Of soap
that when he next looked in the little
mirror be saw no longer the road dusty
tramp, but the fresh, kindly face of young
man who has never tasted of the bitter foun-
tains Of life He started as if he had been
shot; the windows had no curtains and any
passerby might have seen his transforma-
tion. Then camo heavy step on the stairs.
He blew out the light and buried himself in
the bedclothes. In q moment more the door
opened and Philip was breathing heavily.
"AsleepF' it WAS the voice Of his host.
''Well, s'pose the morning will do. Pretty
tired, l guess; wonder how far he came to
dayp and Graves closed the door after him
and went down stairs again.
OF course Philip was not going to sleep, but
there would be no harm in just closing his
eyes, he could think so much better.
Here he was drinking in the very life OF
the poor, q strange, terrible life he had never
really imagined before. He had seen how
worn and broken were their men, and read
tho pathetic lines Of despair and sullen
wretchedness written on their faces, as if in
silent reproach TO the providence that had
inflicted the unsoftened curse of life on them.
He had seen, too, their hapless girlhood,
which beauty cannot cheer, which love only
makes blacker, as the path of lightning a
starless night. And their sick, too, with no
nursing, no gentle words, no comforts to as
suage one hour of pain. Then he seemed to
be in the hall once moro, and thrilling under
the eloquence of the man Curran. Suddenly
he opened his eyes wide. 1t could not be he
was going to sleep, the bed was too hard
, absurd-there could be 70 danger. But in
five minutes the heir Of the Breton mills was
sound asleep in John Graves garret room.
How long he had slept Philip had no more
idea than Rip Van Winkle on former occa-
sion; indeed it took him q ridiculously long
time to separate dreams and facts enough to
.get his bearings. Was that moonlight in the
cast, or dawn! Perhaps the family were all
up and escape would be impossible. He
bounded to his feet and clutched at his false
whiskers, but alasl his paint was all dis
solved in the tin basin. His only chance was
in getting away unnoticed, and in two min
utes more he was cropping out of his little
room and down the steep stairs, boots i'll
hand. He slowly opened the door into the
sitting room What if Graves stood within
curiously watching. An odd guest, this,
stealing out before daybreak. Again Philip
wished he had stayed at home that night.
Thank God! no one was in the room. There
was the cracked, rusty stove and the sofa the
sick woman had lain upon; there was the
dish of cold potatoes on the table and the
chair he had sat in while he tried to eat But
somebody must be up in the inner room; q
stream of light made whito track through
the half open door. Would that bolt never
slip-there. 1t slipped with vengeance, ant
Philip drew back into the staircase in morta
terror The light streak on the floor begar
to move and in q moment more a white
figure stood on the threshold of the bee
ROOM 1t was Jane Graves, with her long
black hair about her neck and white night
dress, and her eyes glistening brightly. She
held the lamp above her head, and let hel
drapery cling as fondly as it chose about 6
form that would have charmed sculptor
AS she listened he could see her wavy hail
rise and fall over her beating heart. Would
she notice the open stair door and come for
ward? What thens He must push her rude
! ly to one side, He imagined her startlet
screams and the fathers figure hurrying int
the scene from another room to seize the in
terloper. No, she returns to her room. Ii
another instant he has opened the door ant
is walking along the street. His escape wa
well timed, for the gray dawn of another day
Of toll and weariness is creeping over thu
factory village
The houses were all alike, the front door
itlst as soled, the steps equally worn, tn
paint the same cheerless yellow to shade
Through the windows of one of them h
caught glimpse of u tall gaunt woman
building the kitchen fire, her face and forl
lighted up by the flames she was nursing
ais ready imagination pictured the wan
featured man who must be her husband, on
,f whose eyes had faded SO many years ag
the last lingering gleam Of tenderness. H
imagined their old faced, joyless children be
grudged the scant play hours of childhood
Trooping behind them all, he pictured lon
line Of special wants and sorrows, the com