Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1889-08-15

Rs he twisted his old cap about his finger
''I'm sure can keep the fire going, and
seems as though we might keep the VOL
out Of the cupboard little longer. And
may find something to do, you know"
There was a big lump in the boys throat
however, as he said this, since he ha
tramped the greater part Of the day looking
for work
you're not strong enough. It's poo
time for sickly boys to 20 out for work,
said the last man 20 whom he had applied
and Nat was quite discouraged, and hat
returned TO the old house in the clearing
with heavy heart.
The dependency Of Aunt Ruth touched
Nathan Bright deeply, and to chez
her he had spoken bravely, hopefully OF thu
future. He knew well enough that tbs
house they occupied might be CLOSED
against them at any time.
Squire Gouge had secured the place tht
year before on a mortgage that the hus
band Of Aunt Ruth Singleton had giver
him when he lay on a sick bed from which
he never rose.
The Singletons had no children, and 81
orphan Nat, a nephew, came to live on the
farm. He was a faithful lad, and soon grew
into the hearts of the childless elderly
people.
The long sickness and death of Mr..
Singleton, however, changed the aspect Of
every thing, and the year after his death
was one Of struggle and self-denial to the
widow and her nephew.
esquire Gouge was here to-day, Nat,''
said the widow, after moment.
''What did he want, aunt!"
''Can you not guess!"
''Not this old house"
eyes, that is the fact. He has engaged q
family to take the farm, and they viii move
IN next week and we must travel, that s
exactly what ne said"
THE Old scamp"
Hush! Nathan. l suppose we have
really no clam upon this place, but it will
be hard to 90 from the old home to which
your Uncle Jack brought me bride q score
of years ago"
The haggard woman bowed her head, IN
able TO hold back the tears.
Il don't care, Aunt Ruth. 1 say Squire
GOuge IS a mean man to turn US out just at
the beginning Of winter He knows we
haven't place to 60. How is your side,
aunt? Does il feel any better!'
''No, andI fear never viii. The doctor
said l must have absolute rest for month
a. least; but beggars can't be choosers."
"Beggars! Never that, Aunt Ruth,'
The boys pale face was lifted, and his
slender form drawn up to its full height,
while his bosom heaved.
''He said beggars ought to go on the town
to the poor-hOuse, Nat, and l suppose he
was right
''Did Squire Gouge say that!"
eyes, ind much more"
1.-THE mean old skinfint! He knows that
he got this farm for less n half its value
If he'd paid the difference you would have
a snug sum in the bank now. Tom Adams
told me that, and he knows. I'll let old
Gouge know that he can't run over you,
Aunt Ruth, when Pm around"
Then, without listening to the good
woman's protest, Nat Bright rushed from
the house and was soon striding like mad
down the road that led to the little city two
miles away.
'Oh, the mean old mani I'll see him and
tell him what l think of his wickedness,"
thought Nat, as he hurried on over the
frozen ground.
December was here, but as yet no snow
had fallen Nat hurried on for half mile,
then came 20 a halt and gazed into the woods
at MS right.
A path led from here across the woods to
the house of Squire Gouge, who lived in the
suburbs of the town. The path led by an
old ruin that was said to be haunted, but
Nat was not superstiuous, and this was the
shortest cut to the Squire's house. If he
went the longer way, by the road, his
indignation might ooze away before he met
the parsimonIOus old money-lender.
IN cut across lots and give him piece Of
my mind right quick! uttered the boy, at
the same time turning into the woods
He hurried on till he gained the clearing,
where the ruins of an old stone house were
visible
The aspect about the place was gloomy
enough, and Nat hurried past the old ruin,
anxious to get beyond the influence of its
somber walls.
He had not gone far when sound greeted
his ears that quite startled him, at the same