The Globe-republican., 1889-10-23

room over the way; another was pulling
himself up the Venetian blind cord; the
youngest, a fat baby OF three. was
Justify screaming because he could not
do likewise The freight shone bright
" and revealed the tea-table all ready.
Sister Lorrie had not yet entered the
room.
Gilbert. my boy. would you like to
be transported into yonder Babel?
That youngsters mouth bespeaks ter
rible row, if the blast outside did not
Guido it." murmured Guy to his sleepy
friend.
mo, thanks; 1 may have a vocation
somewhere awaiting me. but I'm pretty
sure it is not that of caretaker to the
young"
All this time the monotonous cry
was drawing nearer. Church-lane peo-
pie might have set their time-pieces by
poor old Timothy. For years he had
come exactly at five in the afternoon.
if not with cookies, then some other
kind of fish. To-day his cry seemed to
have a very mournful cadence in it;
the tottering form could scarcely stand
before the shrieking gale. One more
call, which was not '-Cockels e-live,"
and Timothy sank down on the yellow
steps before Hindle's door, and seemed
to be quite unconscious of both pierre
ing wind and cookies. His silver hair
was blown over his wrinkled brow. his
eyes were shut, his battered hat was
going far down the street, and many
cookies rolled helplessly out on the yell
low steps.
The two lazy men drew nearer the
window in the doctors house to watch,
and the two boys in the opposite win
dow dropped from the sill at SO unusual
a sight as Timothy taking a rest. Then
the bold and dauntless Bobby drew out
catapult from his jacket pocket with
wild exultation. opened the window.
letting in such gust of wind as effect
ually silenced the baby's bowls. and
straightway ''shot at venture" hit
ting poor old Timothy's brow with a
singing piece of paper. But it had no
power to rouse him.
DR.. Meredith had drawn up his
breath to laugh. but stopped to see
what would happen next.
A girlish figure in black had come
behind the group of boys, her large
grey eyes were like some avenging an
gels, her sleeves were short and show
ed pair of pretty round and little
white hands. She appeared like a
spark of electricity for the moment, the
two white hands made Bobby's ears to
sing for half an hour afterwards, the
window went down with sharp report,
and the two lazy men across the street
murmured simultaneously:
by JOve, she looks pretty when
she's mad"
Another minute. and Lorrie came out
of the door and ran down the steps to
bend over old Timothy.
The wind blew her short brown curls
wildly about and tried to tear off her
dress as she spoke to the deaf old ears.
She looked up and down the street to
see if there was any one to help, but no
ono was in sight. until she glanced
across at che opposite window. and
both men obeyed the little peremptory
nod of her head instantly. They
reached the yellow steps together.
Dr. Meredith passed his soft, warm
hand over the PROSTATE mans haggard
forehead.
''Well?" asked Lorrie. eagerly.
Il must have the poor old fellow
taken to the surgery; he seems in a
bad way"
No; please help me to get him into
our dining-room; there's great fire.
and tea is ready; it may bring him
round, poor old dear"
Gilbert Rowell tugged his mustache
in bewildered maze at the eager, rapid
movements of the lovely girl before
him, and in the whole course of his life
he could not remember ever to have
heard a cookie man" called an 'old
dear"
Guy was selling the old man under
the arms. and said: Here, Gilbert,
catch hold of his feet" and with start
that gentleman obeyed. and Timothy
was very soon resting on q warm sofa,
after sundry picture books and toys had
been swept away by Lorrie.
Tho six boys stood silently looking
on, even the eldest, who had been read
ing The History of Wild Man. as
related by himself" all the afternoon.
had flung that interesting book on the
floor. and with hands in his pockets,
stood with his brothers Only Bobby
occasionally shifted mournfully. unno-
ticed by all. however. but Mr.. Rowell.
who smiled to himself.
what a change for a girl OF sixteen"
he said to himself. for he had determin-
ed in his own mind Lorrie was no more
than a child.
Cookies, sir?" muttered old Timothy,
partially coming round.
NO" said Guy, kindly. 1--WE don't
want any this afternoon. Try and drink