The national leader., 1889-03-09
PARDON'S GOOD LUCK.

j PARDON'S GOOD LUCK.
Philosophers say that there is no such
thing as luck. Asa Darwin thought
differently.
my luck, exactly" said he, despair
ingly. 81 might have known just how
it would be-
He sat on the old stone porch, star
ing out toward the sunset, his chair
tipped back on its two hind legs, his
hands thrust aimlessly into his trousers
pockets.
1t was cold enough to Justify the fire
of beech logs that was blazing on the
hearth in the room inside, where Par
don was tacking up the red moreen cur
tains that she LAD just sponged and
mended neatly; hut it was not an easy
thing for Mr.. Darwin to relinquish the
habit of outdoor lounging that had
clung to him all the summer through.
"What is it, father?" said Pardon.
coming briskly to the door with tack
| Il1ulluC1 III OIlC lCkllO GlIlu a pdpC1 VI
Cacks in the other.
"Jones has just gone by" said Mr..
Darwin. He says the old cow has
got on the railroad track again.
Pardon bit her red under lip.
II told you she would, father" said
she, ''if you didn't have those bars re-
paired"
Sand she's got run over," dolefully
added Darwin. "I'm sure / don't know
what we're going to do without co W.
We've always put lot of dependence
on our milk. But l might have ex-
pected it. Luck has been sheer against
me ever since John James died. A
man with house full of gals can't ex-
pect to make no headway In the
World.'
Pardon colored up.
you didn't expect your girls to
mend the bars, did you, father?" asked
she, little bitterly.
81 was calculatin' to speak to Tim
Parsons about gettin' new pair o.
posts put up." sighed the farmer.
"Wouldn't it have been safer way
to put them up yourself, father?"
II amt as young as l used to be. "
said Darwin, evasively. ''And the
rheumatics is twistin'me powerful these
first cool days"
"Then," said Pardon, with a certain
touch of daughterly authority in her
voice, ''you should come into the house
and not sit there, getting chilled through
and then find fault with your luckl"
Mr.. Darwin slowly rose and shuf1ed
into the bright little keeping room,
where Pardon had spread a neatly
braided rug before the fire, and placed
a broken-spouted pitcher of yellow
golden-rod on the table.
She looked after him with a sigh,
half Of impatience, half regret.
81 wish John James had lived!" said
Mr.. Darwin. feebly.
$50 do l." assented Pardon.
"Ain't supper most ready?" said the
T, farmer, looking discontentedly around.
''It will be in a minute" said Par
don. Il had to split the kindling my
self for the kitchen fire, and Fanny has
run to Mrs. Merritt's for a little meal
to make some hot corn bread"
AT the same moment Fanny return
ed-a slight. overgrown girl of four
teen-breathless with the haste she had
made.
''Mrs. Merritt is very sorry," said
she, ''but she hasn't any cornmeal in
the house."
'"That's enough" said Pardon, glow
ing scarlet to the roots of her hair. 81
don't blame her for getting tired of
lending things to usl''
"But," added Fanny, "she sends a
pail of Graham -four to make gems. In
deed, indeed, Pardon, she's as kind as
she can bel''
Pardon laughed Historically.
''I'm getting as hard and bitter as a
sour persimmon,'' said she. "Yes, Pm
very glad of the Graham -four. Father
can't make out his supper without
something hot for relish. Perhaps
some day we can return Mrs. Merritt's
klndnesses. But oh, Fanny, have you
heard2 The red cow got out of the
pasture this afternoon and is killed. on
the track.n
Fanny burst into tears
"Old Pinkyl' she exclaimed. SIS
there no end to our bad luck?"
Pardon stamped her pretty, ill-shod
foot impatlently on the floor.
s'Luck!'' she repeated. "Don't use
that dreadful word! I believe father
would be better and happier man to-
day if it wasn't in the dictionary at all.
There isn't any such thing as luck. It's