Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900, 1889-12-26

| ~ wonder what you ii be like at my age,
said William Merriot angerly to his son
Albert, one day memorable in the lives of
both.
William Merritt was what the people called
"a hard man to get along with"
He was hard, just, sincere and
severe He began mature life as aatboat
captain, and finished his training as sheriff Of
an Indiana county. born ruler, at 5oyears
of age he knew absolutely nothing of any
methods save stern command and force ready
for instant applic ton. To this he added a
habit Of perpetual fault finding.
He had been going over the hoary harangue
with which some old people have insulted
young ones since he days of Homer, about
the good boys and the industrious young men
Of his early life and the degenerate sons of
these days, when Albert's satlrical humor
| rose.
you're mighty little account now," said
the father "What'll you be at my age?"
Il suppose" said Albert, unconsciously
initiating his fathers sneer, "Pll do like other
old men-sit and tell lies about the big things
| did when | was boy"
IT was one of those insults which some men
consider ''the first blow and the second fell
promptly. Raising his broad, right hand
and foaming with rage, the father brought 1t
down fiat across the sons mouth. The blood
flew from Albert's nose as he staggered back.
He rallied, gazed an instant on the father,
then turned away with clinched teeth and set
purpose.
He sought his conidant, Sam McCorkle,
the drunken shoemaker's boy near by, who
was of the same age as Albert, but knew hity
times as much of the tricks and devlses OF the
oppressed. At 10 years Sam was an expert
il evasive tricks; at IS he was simply prod
ICY.
the sad, cynical skeptic, whose father was
among the wellto do farmers of the commun-
ity, and the finished trckster, whose father
was the outcast; they often laid out wonderful
plans of life in distant regions; but soon a
fair young face rose before Albert Merritt's
ewes, and he could not make up his mind to
90. 1t was the face of Helen Blake, only a
few wears before his schoolmate. But now
Albert was resolved. If Helen thought of
him as often as he did of her, she would wait
for him to return, and if she were worth the
winning she would respect him more for leav-
ing the dlscomforts of his present life. Thus
he reasoned.
Late that night two lads with small bundles
might have been seen, but took care not to be,
on the river road, and it was soon known to
all the community that they had left the place
| OF farewells the boys had SAID none.
Albert had indeed written a brief note to
his mother, in which he had hidden her
good by full of clumsly worded tenderness,
and another to Helen, which he had formally
begun "Miss Helen Blake" and in which he
had as formally expressed the hope that,
though absent perhaps for years, he would not
be forgotten. These epistles he took with
him in his flight, and day or two later en-
trusted them to Sam McCorkle to post, but
that individual fearful that the route of de-
parture would be guessed by the postmark,
calmly destroyed them, although he Solemnly
declared to Albert that he had deposited them
in the postoffice of a considerable town
through which they journeyed. And SO the
two BOYS were quite cut OF from the old
world Of semi servitude.
That father should be sorry for the flight
of a son is but natural; that be should, while
a spark of pride or anger remains, tell any
one of his sorrow would be contraryto ali re-
corded precedents in such cases. William
Merritt was not the man to violate precedents
of discipline He held himself stittiy, waved
awav the subject complacently and said when
he smoke at all, "Oh, he'll soon get sick OF
his firt; he'll be glad enough to come back" J"
But late summer yielded to autumn, and au-
tumn gave place to winter, and sad christ
mas day had come, for Albert Merritt had
made no sign.
When Helen Blake was told that Albert
Merritt was runaway boy" she merely said,
"Ah. indeed" and bent very low over her
work: but she knew why he had gone-knew
it. indeed, about as well as he did.
Ere long she and Mrs Merritt seemed to
have good deal to say to each other. They
seldom if ever mentioned Albert, but it always
seemed that the mother was much cheered
after visit from Helen. In her own de-
snondinq heart the mother said "He will
never come back, he is too much like his
father" favorite delusion with mothers, by
the way. And so, on this sad Christmas day,
the two sorrowful women exchanged deep
symathies without exchanging word on the
subject nearest their hearts, and the mother
felt that night as if volumes had been spoken
on the subject, when in fact it had not been
mentioned. And thereafter Helen came
oftener and oftener, and somehow after each
visit the mother felt an assurance that all
would be right, and felt it just the same
whether Albert's name was mentioned or not.
Now, after the first shock was passed, Hell
EN- Blake never felt doubt in her bosom that
she would in good time receive some word
from Albert Merritt, and she would have
risked much on her conviction that she
would hear before either of his parents, though
she could not have told you why, and proba-
bly would not if she could, for the best farm
in Jackson township Yet she knew it all the
same. and visited the MeriItts often, and at
each visit it somehow fell out that something
rather singular happened
On one occasion she grew quite hilarious in
"reminiscences of a certain school exhibition,
and told how the teacher had photographs OF
tbe whole class taken; set for all, and how
childish the pictures looked now, and how
everybody had changed, though it was but SIX
wears ago, and then she brought out the pho
tographs-cheap, tawdry things they were