Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1890-09-14

and the boy. He spoke my name the first time
the day they LEFT And the last sight 1 had OF
him he was tossing kisses to me from the deck OF
the boat. oh, my boy my pretty boy,
raging up and down the room. 1t didn't seem
like Merrill, ALWAYS such az easy going. quiet,
tempered man. His eyes were bioodshot and
his hands clenched hard. I'd have given my
right hand not to have asked him about the boy.
''They talk about bowling to the will OF Provi-
6ence," he cried, and they say one should
thynk the Creator for His kindness in removing
a little child from a world of trouble; but It isn't
the bleeding heart that is torn by undying sor-
row that can be healed by empty words. didn't
love my child the common way. He was part
of me-the breath of my life. It's been the
hardest thing to think of his growing up away
from me. l can't get used to the idea that mes
gone from me. I've counted the months and
the years and his birthdays they passed.
I've followed along the street after boys that
seemed the same age mile, and often and
often it's seemed to me II they were my little
chap, alive and we'll, ready to turn to me with
bright word and q loving look. You, most OF
all, Ned Bryant, when you We hung about me
with your bows fool notions and questions
wi bout end. I've humored you ana helped
you, thinking all the time of my own little Rob,
and half the time fooling myself with the fancy
! had him in your place.
l couldn't stand it moment longer. I tore
the street. Oh, the cruelty Of it? The rank in
Justice OF it! That all this love should be
wasted on tine little child that lay at she bottom
of the sea, and 1. boy nobody cared for, should
not even be able to remember the parents whose
bones lay bleaching beside those of Merriil's
child. If he, a man advanced in years, could
feel so keenly his desolation, what should
feel boy still in his childhood, with long,
urloved life stretching out before him?
1t was late that night when 1 ere pit humbly
through the front gate and stole into the house.
There was q light in the library, and that tod
my ulcle was still up. My heart leaped at the
thought that perhaps he had felt anxious about
bout starving for some little portion OF sffec-
ton such other boys have and half the time
DO not care for. stood there trembling in the
door, ready to fall down at his feet or kiss his
hani, or do any other silly thing for 6 single
word of sympathy. But when he turned to see
me his face showed nothing but displeasure.
''You have been out late tonight. Don't let
II happen again, ~ was I'll he said.
John Merrill left soon after this. He went
into the gardening business on his own account.
and set up little nursery on the other side OF
town. l don't think he heard anything OF nv
story before he left. Uncle never encouraged
gossip about the house.
Once in q while went over to see him, but
my visits were q long time apart. When l did
see him he kind and pleasant as ever, but
after awhile dldn' care much to go there. To
tell the truth, was a c. :eted idiot, and fan
cied myself peg or two higher in the world
than my old friend. actu ally thought il more
honorable to inherit a dead mans money than
to earn 6 living by the work Of ones own hands.
like honest John Merrill.
was beginning to enjoy my privileges as n
rich man s son. My uncle seemed to feel that 1
had reached an age when 1 ought to begin to
learn how to handle money and act for myself,
so he gave me more liberty, and he increased
nv allowance to what was really princely sum
for a boy of fifteen to spend. But l tell you 1
made the money fly. fell in with set OF boys
OF my own age not bad fellows, but careless and
snobbish and worthless, as boys are apt to be
who haven't anything in life to do but to spend
the money their fathers have made before them.
We rode in the park, and went to the theater,
and trained in an amateur military club and
spouted in private theatricals, and contrived
generally to get a great deal of fun and precious
little profit GU: OF life.
.t,a a pbay,
up with a round turn. l came in to luncheon
and found by my plate line from my uncle,
asking me to meet him at o clock in the Ii
brary. This made me wretchedly uncomfort-
able, for l knew, well as if his had said so,
that there was gong to be row over big dia-
Inold scarf pin had bought the day before
the most absurd thing for boy to wear; but
one of my boy friends had a set OF diamond shIrt
studs, and wanted TO outshine hin, and as my
quarters allowance was gone, the bill had to be
sent home to nv uncle.
So marched up to the library little fright
eped but bound to assert my rights; and the |
moment opened the door knew that some
thing had happened.
There sat nv uncle, and there sat the lawyer
who had charge of the estate, and between them |
was rongh-looking fellow had never seen be-
fore: while standing near the door was John
Merrill, looking very i'll at ease, and quite as
confused and daZed as myself.
Ny uncle greeted me more cordially than had |
ever known him to speak before.
'.Ah, my boyI here you are at last. Sit down |
sit down. And now, Thomas Maxim. l wan: !
me this morning. Ciifford,'' turning to the |
lawyer, "you had better take down his state
ment. -
Mr. Clifford drew up to the desk and took up |
a pen and the man, with grin and shame |
faced look across the room st me, began his !
story.
''Hi'm a seafaring man, sir, 3 inglish by
birth. Thomas MAXIM is my name. Thirteen
years ago Hi shipped as deckhand on the steam
er Queen of the Ses-she that went down right
out ere in the a=bor.'
Mr.. Clifford interrupted him, speaking
sharply.
"Where have you been since then, sir''
'Wen, you see, sir. there was talk as some
Of us-the crew-was too andy with the boats. -
''And you have been In San Francisco how
often and how many times since then?'
Never q day till now, sir. Shipped the day
after the wreck on 8 bark as sailed TO the Navi-
gator highlans and sick enough Hi was of fe-
yer along of the chill and ducking Hi 'ad. And
'ow . body was ever to save such q crazy tet OF
people as them passengers-'
"oh. dry up Makinr' exclaimed my uncle.
az don't dou bt You were q lot OF cowardly ras-
Gals. every man saved from that steamer. But
get on with your story"
''WeIl, sir, Hi was a-saying, Hi shipped as
deck and on the steamer. and when We were