Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1889-12-20

stairway was burning, and jumped to the
ground with his precious burden safe on his
arms. He was greeted with such a cheer
only Tekeewah threats can give We regret
to be obliged to add that Mr. Merritt suffered
n painful, though not necessarily dangerous,
injury in the breaking of an arm, which was
struck by a falling timber. He was also
rather severely burned. 1t is hoped, how
ever, that he will soon be himself again"
This paper Helen brought with her but
carefully hidden. She had determined, if
need be, to show 1t to the stern father, but
she proposed to hold it for the last resort
But her manner for, though ordinarily calm,
she was now much excited) betrayed her,
and as soon as William Merritt looked into
her face he knew that she knew something of
Albert; and her unwonted agitation, as he
gazed ixedly at her, convinced him that
something was aniss with his son. Mrs.
Merritt was about to speak when her hus-
band interrupted her in strained quivering
tones:
"Helen Blake" he said, sis Albert deadl
Tell me the truth"
There was world of paternal love in the
old mans voice now. But for a moment
Helen said nothing. for she felt that were she
to speak she would instantly and completely
lose her self control So with deprecatory
gesture and white face she walked to the
window to compose herself, while the father
and mother waited in suspense. After a lit
tie she turned again to them, and, with a re-
assuring look toward Mrs. Blake, who sat
with clasped hands and parted lips, she took
the paper from her pocket
81 would like to read to you an article from
The Tekeewah kansas Bugle," she said, in
as steady a voice as she could command. And
then she read the account of the fire, from
headlines to dash, without break and with
out looking up. When she had done she
raised her eyes Mrs. Blake was CRYING qui-
city and the old man was quite broken down.
"Helen," he said, reaching out both hands
to the girl, Its no use. | can't be a hard
ened old fool no longer. Can't we get Albert
back here with usl Hadn't better go out to
Kansas and get himl Poor boy, may be he's
hurt worse than il says" And then the old
man let the tears how unconcealed.
That night letter was mailed to Tekee-
wah. Kan. 1t was written by Helen though
unsigned, and here is copy:
Mr.. Albert Merritt:
The account of the recent fire in Tekeewah and
the bravery displayed by yourself on that occa-
sion has worked a great change of opinion in
certain quarters, change which would have
come soon, however, in the natural course of
things. Your father is very much broken and
anxious to see you FRIEND.
When Albert Merritt received this letter
he was convalescent, lying on the bed of the
best room in the Tekeewah tavern, while Sam
McCorkle was standing in the center of the
floor telling some admiring friends for the
thousandth time how my pard here saved
that gal baby" ~ tell you," he said, sit
takes the boys from old Indianny to do things.
! Now, | mind me one time before | came west
of how little Jimmy Jones fell into the river,
N jumped right in without stopping to
| peel a Bit And then he reeled off a
wholly imaginary yarn of his own bravery,
while Albert smiled and the rest listened open
mouthed When Albert had read his letter
he said quietly:
"Sam, I'm going home for Christmas
shall start as soon as l can do it safely"
Sam was astounded, but he did not remon-
strate, and finally concluded to go, too, "just
to take care of AL" he explained to the boys.
But secretly he was glad of the excuse.
The next issue of The Tekeewah Bugle con-
tanned this paragraphs
"Our well known townsman, Mr.. Albert
Merritt is about to visit his old home in In
diana, where he will probably spend the holt
days. He is very nearly well of the injuries
| sustained at the recent IRE. lie Will be aC
companied by his fast friend, Mr.. Sam Nc
Corkle, the well known lightning rod agent
The stage due to pass William Merritt:
house at 4 80 o'clock on Christmas eve, but
the roads were bad and it was quite dark
when, with a sweeping curve, it swerved tc
the side of the pike and stopped in front OF
the house, in the open front doorway of which
in strong silhouette against the flood of light
within, stood the burly form of William
Merritt, his hands outstretched with trem
bling hopefuness.
Come along, SAM" said one of the young
men who dismounted from the back seat OF
J the high stage, II need you yet"
There was a cry in which recognition, wei
come and forgiveness were all blended from
the figure in the doorway, and an answer
from the taller of the travellers, who still car
ried one arm in sling. And a moment latel
William Merritt led this one into his house.
Mother" he said, ''our boy has com,
back
In the ecstatic joy of meeting his mother
Albert had forgotten Sam McCorkle, anC
when he looked for him that individual haC
disappeared. As he afterward explained, h,
didn't feel like he was any use when folk
was all a-cryin' and a-weepin' and fallin' OF
each others necks, so he just sloped"
But Albert did not look for Sam very long
He had much to tell Of his new life in tn,
west, where he had been fairly successful, anC
his father and mother and brothers and sis
ta-c had omit call