Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1888-04-21

destination = simply fight to save his
friends.
1t was midnight when he left his bed
and dressed himself in the clothes made
many years before for the boy who slept on
a Southern battlefield, and which Aunt
Betsy had taken out of long unused room
upstairs. He was still weak, and was
forced often to stop and rest Having
dressed, he sat down, and by the dim light
of the lamp scrawled a note to the Deacon.
This finished, he stopped for moment
before the door which led to the room
where his friends were sleeping. His lips
were moving and he nervously clasped and
unelasped his hands again and again. At
last he cautiously slid back the bolt, opened
the door and went out intothe black night
Aunt Betsy repeatedly wiped her eyes
| with her apron when the Deacon, next
morning, read in a trembling voice the
scrawl that the Ascending one had left
behind him:
"deer dekin fer de luv of god say yer
| turned me out an it ull be all rite shant
never fergit yer an deer ant betsy-yeve
ben so good ter me good by furever billy"
1t was the opening day of the church
| trial, and by all precedent the Deacon
should appear before the ecclesiastical
tribunal and answer the charges brought
against him, but instead he went to the
barn, harnessed Old Fan and drove up to
the kitchen door,
why, Ebeneezer" cried Aunt Betsy,
where be We goin'? Have We forgotten
that ye're summoned to-day ~
''They can summon till doomsday," ir-
reverently said the Deacon. 81 hope it
will do 'em good. Pm goin' in search of
that poor boy, Mis- Bulge, church trials or
no church trials"
"Ebeneezer go, and the Lord guide
ye," said Aunt Betsy, and he drove
away.
The Deacon was bent on wild chase
and the benediction breathed upon him
by his good wife seemed TO follow him.
Down the valley he drove as fast as his old
horse could trot. 1t was clear, cold day
in October, and he shook his head omin-
ously as he thought of that frail, weak boy
out in the chill, night air, with no protec-
ton save the thin clothes he wore.
Past farmhouses, meadows and the old
stone quarry he drove and finally came
into Bentley's pine woods. The solemn,
dark trees seemed to hint to him that they
held a secret under their shade. He left
old Fan standing in the highway and
plunged into the forest. The dry twigs
cracked under his feet Branches crossed
before him to impede his progress, but he
thrust them patiently away. He had not
far to go. He came suddenly upon the
object of his search, lying on the cold,
frosty ground. With an inarticulate ex-
clamation he tenderly lifted him in his
arms and poured the brandy he had
brought between the fast stifienlng lips.
Signor Rinaldo opened his glazing eyes
and looked up into the rugged face, over
which the big tears were fast dropping.
and said family:
Don't cry, Dekin, | hain't wuth it.
But Pm glad yer come. wos Jest thinkin'
about yer am dat song yer sang down in
der medder. Wot wos it about de dyin'
thief?-sing it true"
With voice broken with emotion the
Deacon complied:
The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day,
And there may |, though vile as he
WASH all my sins away
OATS me-" murmured SIgnor Rinaldo.
Wash all my sins away-wash all-my
sins-away."
My poor boy" sobbed the Deacon. 81
can't have this so. Ye've killed yourself
what made We go? Thar want no need"
l wanted to help yer" said the dying
boy. Yer stood-by-me-a WANTED
er-stand-by-"
There was faint smile-a lutter of the
eeyelids-one little gasp, and the Deacon
laid Signor Rinaldo back on the cold earth,
dead.-Edih Sessions Upper, in the Louis
rifle Courier-Jommal.