The Sunday morning news., 1889-09-01

is HOW"
Bren came out into the sIreets. He
was hardly the shadow of himself. His
clothes were worn and patched, and hung
loose about him. He was poor and alone.
He was happier that last summer morn
ing than any king on throne. His heart
Hwas light as air. He tramped with a
strong new life; he wanted to throw up
his cap and hurrah. 1t was done. He
was free; he was freel That was the
thought of thoughts. ALI this while he
hadfelt himself bound and walled in. He
mad not belonged to himself He had
been in jail, though nobody knew. He
might go where he pleased; but unseen
Barriers went with him and shut him
from honest folk. Something like this
had been his feeling And now it was as
df the prison walls had suddenly rifted
away, and the roof rolled off like a burn
ing scroll. And all the free green earth
wasround about him once more, and the
freesblue cloud land wide as heaven over
head That thought rang round and
round in his brain-Free, free, freel
Now he could go to Kate. He longed
and was afraid He feared all imaginable
things. What changes might not have
happened in all this weary while? What
could she have thought of his strange
behavior2 Well, he would hope for the
best; he would be honest and straight
forward. When she knew all, she would
understand. She would not be hard upon
him, he tried to feel sure. When he went
round to Quincy street that night, the
blinds of No. 10 were closed. The place
was ITO Let"
4 Mr.. Arrow had gone into silver mine
speculation somewhere in the west.
Kate had taken to teaching, somewhere
In Vermont, they believed That was all
Bren could learn. Traveller sent him
home for three weeks to recruit. He
Icamelback in ten days and begged Char
aey toilet him go to work He was very
quiet. and apt to brood good deal if he
was not kept busy. He had been q little
wild at first. The blow, as Bren was,
staggered him. He thought he had de-
served better; it was grinding fellow
1ittlestoo hard. Virtue was its own re-
ward, was itf And that was what man
gotl I can't tell you all that he said.
But, back of all, when the first intolera-
BILE sharpness had worn off somewhat. he
saw and felt the truth--that there is only
one way, that truth and honor are best
and incompatible every where and when.
Better a Thousand times, he honestly be-
1ieved, lose love, and life, and all, than
have me's will and not be worthyl He
knew tt and said it to himself while he
cursed his fate for very bitterness. and
Thought he should better be dead. And
he did,not get over the pain, though the
rough edge wore away. It went too deep.
He settled into quiet, reserved little
fellow. whom everybody liked. and whom
no one knew very well. Traveller gave
him better pay by and by. He laid by
a little for a rainy day and plodded
on, cheerful, in way, after q while.
with a gentle way rilat surprised his
friends, and an instructive shrinking
from the veriest hadow of fraud with
kind of fear
Bren is three years older when we meet
him next. You would say he is five or
six. Sitting one day at the same old
desk, his pen between his teeth, his eyes
booking out to the street, but seeing
things that happened years ago, the post
man comes In and lays letter on the
desk. The address is in lady's hand
which Bren does not know. He tears off
the end and reads
BRAMMERLIN, Vt, Oct. II.
FRIEND WILL-About two years ago
there came to live near this an old man
named Gray. He had been for many years
in hardware house in your city. His
daughter married two years ago, and her
husband brought the old gentleman here
tolive; he is native of B. They are
near neighbors OF mines the old gentle
man and took liking for each other.
He has been quite Ill for some time,
though am glad to say he is mending
now. I was by him one night when he
was wandering; in his delirium heard
him speak your name. He talked of you
a great deal. When he got sensible again
asked him about it. You must know
what he told me. think / understand
now what puzzled me greatly once You
can't blame me for not seeing 1t then;
had no knowledge of the case, and you
must know you acted very strangely. But
I've thought it all over, and can't say
but that / may have seemed to you un-
just. And came to the conclusion that
iticould do no harm, at least, and would
be a satisfaction to myself, to write and
say to you that | never meant you any
unlsindness. There are some things /
cannot understand, but you and l were
too good friends once for me not to wish
toabe still considered
Your friend, K.A
Bren took railroad guide from hook
beside his desk and turned it over Then
he turned round and spoke to one of the
men:
+sTell Mr. Traveller, when he comes in,
that I'm going out of town and won't be
back before Friday"
lie got down at Bramnerlin station as
the dusk was coming on. It was pleas
ant little town. He easily found person
who could direct him.
~Arrow7 Yes; teacher in Hillside in
Btitute. Up the hill, first road to the
right-little gray house-name, Mrs.
Minim."
Bren saw woman's figure coming down
the hill alone in the dusk. He stood
across her path. She looked up sharply
rs she came near.
ssKate."
ssWiu."
They clasped' hands, and each knew in
: moment that all was clear between
bhem. They walked together in the twi-
light, till the moon came up and climbed
she eastern sky. They went over it all.
By and by they stopped before the little
gray house.
al never cared for Brewer, WILL" Kate
WIS saying. "But you were so rnde to
him. and $3.50 jealous, VIII, that you
nade rae take his side. was sorry then,
but couldn't help it, VIII"
''Never mind now, Kate. ] know it was
ny fault. / was grouty fool. Bat 1t
Eould have all come right II l had kept
sI>ar ~ that ,s.,,-rad l,flt xvoa ofrafd az