Huntsville gazette., 1889-08-31

| uuc CudnCO W OO iudly ulOro, thought
the lad buttoning his worn overcoat.
He slipped off without word at a
station and sent a telegram to Denver.
ITO Samuel Blair"-for he had
caught the name from her talk-"Your
Aunt Hannah Blair, of Maine, is on
the w. e. w. train coming to you"
1t was only a straw, but a kindly
wind might blow it to the right one
after all.
When he was sitting there after his
message had gone on its way, she
leaned over and handed him pepper
mint drop from package in her
pocket.
''You don't look strong, dearie, - she
said; ''hain't ye no folks with ye?'
| ''None on earth"
"We're both lone ones" she smiled;
IAN how sad it be there amt no one
to fuss over ye. An be keerful of the
drafts, and keep flannel allus on your
chist; that is good fur the lungs"
You are very kind to take an inter-
est in me-" he smiled; ''but l am
afraid it is too late"
Another night of weary slumber in
the cramped seats, and then the plain
began to be dotted with villages, and
soon appeared the struggling outskirts
Of city, the smoke of mills, the CLEAN
of the Platte river, and network OF
iron rails. bright and shining, as the
train ran shrieking into the labyrinth
of its destination.
This is Denver" said the lad to
her, ''and rll look after you as well as
| can"
Il wun't be no burden" she said,
brightly. "1've twenty dollars yet,
an that's a sight of money"
The train halted to let the Eastward
bound express pass, there was an air
of excitement in the car, passengers
getting ready to depart, gathering up
| luggage and wraps, and some watching
the newcomers and the rows of strange
faces on the outward bound.
The door of the car slammed sud-
denly, and a big bearded man with
eager blue eyes came down the aisle
looking sharply from right to left. H
had left Denver on the express to meet
this train. His glance fell on the tiny
black figure.
why, Aunt Hannah!'' he cried, with
a break in his voice, and she-she put
out her trembling hands and fell into
the big arms, tears streaming down
the wrinkled face.
Il knowed Providence would let me
| find We, Sam" she said, brokenly, and
no one smiled when the big man sat
down beside her and with gentle hand
wiped her tears away.
why, I've sent John twenty dol
lars a month for five years for you"
he said angerly, as she told him why
she ran away, land he said you could
not write, for you had stroke and
was helpless. and / have written to
you often and sent you money. It's
hard for man to call his own brother
| a villain"
eve wunt, Sam," she said, gently,
but just furgit; an wun't be burden
to ye, fur | can wurk yit, an for years
to come.n
Work, indeed! don't | owe you
every thing?" he cried. ''And my
wife has longed for you to come. There
are SO few dear old aunts in this coun-
try, they're priced, / tell you. Why,
it's as good as a royal coat-of-arms tc
have dear handsome old woman like
you for a relation"
Then he found out who sent the tele-
gram and paid the lad, who blushed
and stammered like a girl and did not
want to take it.
81 suppose you want job" said the
big man. ''Well. can give you one;
I'm in the food commission business.
Give you something light. Lots Of
your sort, poor lad. out here. All the
reference | want is that little kindness
of yours to Aunt Hannah"
Here's the depot, Aunt Hannah,
and you won't see bars and Injuns,
nor the buffaloes you were talking
about, but the prettiest and sunniest
city you ever set your dear eyes on"
He picked up the big carpet-bag,
faded and old-fashioned, not a bit
ashamed Of it, though it looked like
Noah might have carried it to the ark.
They said goodbye, and the last
seen of her was her happy old face
beaming from carriage window as
she rolled away to what all knew
would be a pleasant home for all her
waning years. rs.-Patience Stapleton, in
| Golfers Once Week.