The Press., 1890-01-09

q growed 90 lonesome,' she said patheti- caily, s.its seems couldn't take up heart to live day by day, an yit knowed our folks was long lived Ten years hack, when Sam wrote he was a doin' fair an sent me money, begun to think of him; fur he was allus generous an' kind, an the gratefulest boy, an so l begun to save to go to him, fur knowed could work my board fur good meny years to come. Fur three year he ain't hardly wrote, but laid that to the wild ken try he lived in. I said bars an Injuns don't skeer me none, fur when was gal up in Aroostuk kentry there was plenty of both, an as fur builders them horned cattle don't skeer me none fur Eve been used to farm allus. But the lonesumness of these medders has sorter upsot me an made me think every day Sam was further off than I ever cal c'lated on"
 "But what will you do if Sam ain't in Dem veri" asked the farmer.
 "I hev put my faith in Providence" she answered simply, and the stranger could not mar that trust by any word of warning.
 He gave her his address as he got off at the Nebraska line and told her to send him word if she needed help. With a warm hand clasp he parted from her to join the phantoms in her memory of folks thet had bin kind to her, God bless 'em,n and then the train went rumbling on.
 But many of the passengers had listened to her story and were interested, and they came to sit with her.
 One pale little lad in the seat ill front turned round to look at her now and then and to answer her smile. He was going to the new country for health and wealth, poor lad, only to find eternal rest ill the sunny land, but his last days frightened by tho reward ! for his thoughtf,M act of kindness. | stShe probably brought those boys up," he i, thought, land denied her life for them. Is she to die unrewarded, wonder! There l cannot be any good in the world if that be so." He thought of her and took out his | poor purse; there was so little money in it, 1 too every cent made a big hole in his store; | but the consciousness of good deed was worth l something. II mayL't have the chance to do many more" :" thought the lad, buttoning his | worn overcoat. ! He slipped off without word at station l and sent a telegram to Denver. l sTo Samuel Blair'-for he had caught the | name from her talk-'sYour Aunt Hannah l Blair, of Maine, is on the W. and W. train ] coming to you"
 It was only straw, but O kindly wind 1 might blow it to the right one after all. When he was sitting there after his mes sage had gone on its way, she leaned N CT and handed him 8 peppermint drop fro r package in her pocket.
 1 "sYou don't look strong, dearie," she said; "haint ye no folks with ye!'
 "None on earth"
 1 "We're both lone ones,' she smiled; ''an' l how sad it be there ain't 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 interest in me-" he smiled; 'sbut am afraid it is too late"
 Another night of weary sluinber in tho Icramped seats, and then the plain began to | be dotted with villages, and soon appeared I the straggling outskirts of O. city, the smoke | of mills, the gleaan of the Platte river, and 8 I network of iron rails, bright and shining, as + the train ran shrieking into the labyrinth of it's destination.
 l. T 9This is Denver, D said the lad to her, land I'll look after you as well as can."
 "It wun't be no burden" she said brightly. ,l five $2O dollars yet, an that's sight of money"
 The train halted toilet the eastward bound express pass, there was an air of excitement I in the car, passengers were getting ready to | depart, gathering up luggage and wraps, and | some watching the new corners and the rows of strange faces on the outward bound.
 r The door of the car slammed suddenly, and a big bearded man with eager blue eyes came 1 down the aisle looking sharply from right to left He had left Denver on the express to I meet this train Rfs glance fell on the tiny black figure
 s.Why, Aunt Hannah" he cried, with a 9I break in his voice, and she-she put out her I. trembling hands and fell into the big arms, T tears streaming down the wrinkled face.
 .."I knowed Providence would let me find ye, Sam," she said brokenly, and no one
 smiled when the big man sat down beside her and with gentle hand wiped her tears away.
 t'Why, I've sent John S20 month for five
 years for you," he said angrily, as she told
 him why she ran away, land he said you y conld not write, for you had stroke and wal
 helpless. and I have written to you often and
 sent you money. It's hard for man to call
 his own brother 8 villain"
 I've wun't Sam, she said gently, "but | just furgit; an wun't be burden to ye, full
 I can wurk yit, an' for years to come"
 'Work, indeed! don't I owe you every
 thinga' he cried. And my wife has longed | for you to come. There are so few dear old
 aunts in this country, they're prized. tel
 you. Why, it's as good as a royal coat-of
 arms to have dear handsome old woman I like you for relation
 Then he found out who sent the telegram
 and paid the lad, who blushed and stam mered like girl and did not want to take it
 ''I suppose you want job," said the big
 man. Well, l can give you one; I'm in th'
 food commission business. Give you some
 thing light. Lots of your sort, poor lad, ou
 here. All the reference want is that littl'
 kindness of yours to Aunt Hannah" Here's the depot. Aunt Hannah, and yo, s won't see bars and Injuns,' nor the buffaloe : you were talking about, but the prettiest ant
 sunniest city you ever set your dear eyes on. He picked up the big carpet bag, faded an' | old fashioned, not a bit ashamed of it, thougl
 it looked like Noah might have carried it t the ark.
 They said good-by, and the last seen of he
 was her happy old face beaming from car E riage window as she rolled away to what al
 knew would be pleasant home fer all he
 waning years.-Patience Stapleton in Once
 Week
 A Contented Child.
 Fond Mother-How do you like your nev
 goyerness, Johnnyf
 Johnny-Oh, like her ever so much.
 "I'm 90 glad my little boy has nic
 teacher at last. Iron, she's awful nice. She says she don care whether I learn anything or not, 50 loni } as pop pays her salary. ."-New York Weekly Et 'E4a-.. 2 ...-..s-