Telegram-herald., 1889-06-01

A. "a : sc4FieE Scsl a1l al zDz4 4ro Et-
J.= sap. crowd u rAzgeo. bSre
footed YoungsEer attracted from the mil
tenenasBts D. the music sEd the monkey,
followed CsLt a. ! Attls distance. held back
D. tRs scoSl ca TIE nsB's daFG lace. Way
shoald be uot scowif May mile he had
travelled since Rsrsiax. IN the dust and
heat, and few were ghs pennies shat HAD
been broC sAs 70 atm by his ehAttSuBg
comPanion. II yoG had told him Ne hsd
been sent BY kesyea 70 that blt or hot,
dusty pavement cLose u the mill gates he
would have l4sghed IA scorn aad sworn Ia
anger
Ia fe@ minutes the ho2r fsr closing the
factory would arrive. TIC tlreless macnnles
would cease their motion. aud the tired
slaves OF tee loom wouid be free till the
morrow. The organ grinder kpew that
some pennies from tie operatives pockets
would mud their way 20 him aud the scosvl
50 far furnished from his face as he placed
the organ N position, that the children.
wild 10 see the mORkey, gathered about
him.
Up through the mill windows foated
the strains OF a lively jig. Tired feet
moved more nimbly back and forth with
the machines. some began TO hum the air
under their bresth-nesriy all seemed glad
OF the little break in the monotony OF their
labor
only one man in all the long room sp-
peared unconscious OF the lively measures
"a young man who pursued his work with
sullen energy that proved his thoughts
were tronbled ones
Tom Bradley had reached the most crit
teal hour Of his life-well nigh the most
critical moment-aRd single half hour
would give his lie trend that would de-
aide all us future direction.
The few months since he left his country
home, tired OF its round of labor and eager
20 see something OF the great world, had
told upon him perceptibly. The fresh
color had faded, the honest blue eyes had
grown heavy. his hand WAS often unsteady
i'm short, he hsd fallen among evil COM
panions. The wages that had seemed so
grand TO him at first had more than once
disappeared in u single night OF drinking
and gambling. No wonder the thought OF
the crisp bank notes in the mill safe
mouey TO pay the hands on the morrow
was a tempting one 10 him. And Jack
Williams. a bar-room loafer, whose com
panionship had been most harmful to the
country lad. had shown him so plainly
how easily il could be secured and how
Tom knew il meant the commIttal OF
crime that might put him behind prison
bars for years he knew it meant heart
breaking sorrow for the parents who would
willingly lay down their lives 70 save their
only boy from disgrace, he knew it meant
u marred life. an accusing conscience.
Yes, be would go into the job with Jack
that night.
The jig ceased there was an instant's
pause, and then, clear and shrill above the
whir of the machinery, rose the street
music again.
"'Mid pleasures and palaces altho' we way
roam"
Tom heard the organ at last, and
frowned He was in no mood for music.
"Be it ever so humble, there's no place like
home"
The organ seemed to sing out the famil-
lar words.
The frown disappeared. That law OF
associated ideas by which strain OF
music, an idle word, a perfume even,
brings to the memory in flash and with
startling fidelity some ng-forgotten
scene, narrowed the walls OF the factory
and ndtransformed 1t into a low-ce sitting
room, cosey and bright, the sinking winter
sun throwing shaft of light into the
corner where the old-fsshioned melodeon
stood and Bringing out the graceful, girl
ish figure seated there. How prettily the
brown hair curled about the white neck,
how altogether sweet and kissable she
was. They were singing-his sister and
Mary-singing Home, Sweet Home" be-
cause it was his mothers fsvorite How
clear the girlish voices were, how pleasant
the room with its open fire and the mass
OF scarlet geraniums in the west window.
And Mary had cared little for him; even
now letter never came from homo with
out u friendly message from her. Tom
wanted 10 bend forward and kiss just
that bit OF white neck.
Home home, sweet sweet homo.
Be 1t ever so humble, there's no place like
home"
No place like homel How pleasant the
old farmhouse must be this sultry August
day; how sweet the flowers must smell in
the old fashioned garden his mother
tended 30 lovingly, how green and cool the
meadows must stretch out to the dark
fringe Of the woodsl Just now father
would be coming home from the fields and
the supper table would be spread in the
shady porch.
All at once Tom felt a great wave Of
home-sickness sweep over him, nh ire
sistible longing for home. for mother. for
Mary. He hated Jack Williams, he hated
the great brick walls of the cotton mill
and the hot pavements and turmoil Of the
city. The rustic of bank notes was not 20
be compared with the rustic of the leaves