Morris tribune., 1889-12-25

When Helen Blake was told that Albert
Merritt was a RUNAWAY boy" she merely
said All, indeed" and bent very low over
he- work; but she knew why hs 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 al
ways seemed that the mother was much
cheered after visit from Helen. In her own
desponding 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 sympathies 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 some
how after each visit the mother felt an as
surance that all would be right, and felt it
lust the same whether Albert's name was
mentioned or not.
Now, after the first shock was passed,
Helen Blake never felt a 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
probably would not if she could, for the best
farm in Jackson township. Yet she knew it
all the same, and visited the Merritts often,
and at each visit it somehow fell out that
something rather singular happened.
On cne occasion she grew quite hilarious In
"reminiscences of a certain school exhibition,
and told how the teacher had photographs of
the whole class taken, set for all, and how
childish the pictures looked now, and how
everybody had changed, though it was but
six years ago, and then she brought out the
tawdry things they
were but among them was one of tall, fair
boy, with all the glow of class leadership in
his eye, and light hair curling around bold
forehead, and under it, in round boyish script,
was the autograph, albert Merritt.
A pang shot through the fathers heart,
and he longed for her to talk Of his boy; but
she ratified on about Tom and Jennie and
Matte and soon hastened home.
But the mother noticed that Helen chad
forgotten her pictures, and so they lay on
the looking glass stand for many a day,
where the father often saw the presentiment
of his boy, but he never touched it, and they
lay there till Helen came again.
This time she brought ''story paper for
Mrs Merritt, saying that the main story In
it had interested her very much; and after
she was gone William Merritt picked it up
and pished and pshawed and ridiculed the
pictures, but he read the story. 1t was
commonplace novelette, of son, who had fled
from a harsh father and enlisted in the Fed
eral army, and who was sick almost unto
death in southern hospital, and how in de-
lirium he babbled of home, and how Sister
of Charity wrote to the father, who came
and patiently nursed his boy back to life and
love and forgiveness. A commonplace story
one of ten thousand war stories of the time
but the fathers hand trembled as he read,
and he rushed to the field and drove his work
with unusual energy and shouted louder than
ever at his team, and at night was stern and
silent and solemn to degree that surprised
even his long suffering wife.
The other children would occasionally ven
ture reference to Albert, and now when
Helen came the father would blame the rum
away; but she only listened quietly and ask
ed if they had ever heard of him, and turned
the talk to their school days. And so two
years passed away and the third Christmas
came. In celebration of the day the Mer-
ritts were to be the guests OF the Blakes, and
when they gathered In the Dig room OF tne
great farm house it happened that all the
young people present were of that last day
class at the head of which Albert Merritt had
stood. Of course Helen Blake never thought
of alluding to such fact-''it just happened
so," her parents thought-but there were
plenty in class of eight young people who
could talk as fast as they could think, and
usually did it, too. And SO the conversation
ratified on about that glorious day, and the
father, whose heart was literally pounding
against his ribs, and whose internal strug-
giles were such that he could not tell whether
he was eating turkey or oak chips, talked
loudly and aggressively to those at his end
of the table, and quite overbore Mr.. Blake
on politics, and finally offered to bet 1.-THE
pick of his horses agin' a yearlin' calf" that
his candidate for the presidency would have
SOC, 900 majority over any man the other side
could put up next year.