The Irish standard., 1890-01-18

1 they should go. He saw that although
Jacob was glad to have them, that the daily
!, routine of his life was al cred, that hi
ways were not their ways.
It was their last evening at Jacobs house
1 when weeAlice had taken grandma up to he1
own room, and was happy with her in bel
/ pretty, childish fashion, and Aunt Kate, soft
ened and genter for the time spent:with tht
| child, was sitting there with her, happy ant
| at peace, too.
! In the library. the beautiful room with its
| lines of books and corners of rare curiosi
| ties, seated in two easy chairs drawn up ii
| front of the blazing fire, were Uncle Aaror
and Jacob, alone together. Alike, and YET
| not alike. Jacobs face, manly and grave
stood out like marble, cniseled by some
master hand. A face full of vigor an6
thought and strength. 1t seemed to sug
! gest the possibilities in mani But Uncle
Aaron, Of larger frame and grander mold
sublime in his rugged simplicity, seemed to
suggest the possibilities Of God!
The two sat looking into the Goals, and at
last Jacob said, with sigh: swell, so you
leave US to-mol row, father. Couldn't you
stay longer?"
''It's best not, lad, it's best not We've
had a good visit, and your mother has been
like different creature since wee Alice
took to her so. Hu1n!'' with little chuckle
Of keen amusement, "blood is thicker'r
water, amt it? When I see little Alice
a settin' on her grandma's lap, a-doin' what
she will with her, and her a-setttn' as gen.
tie and quiet as a nestin' hen. feel as if I'd
like to go out and flap my wings and say
| Cock-ee doodle-doop"
! "But you don't" said jacob, with an an
swering laugh.
: ''No, lad, DON'T" replied Uncle Aaron,
with quizzical look, ssnor neither would
you if you was me-"
A moments pause, then Uncle Aaron,
STOPPING down, took hold of a magnificent
black bear-skin that, mounted as a rug, was
in front Of the CRATE.
s'How queer it seems, lad, to use the
bars coat this way! Why, many's the bar
I've killed in the past twenty years in tne
mountains, and yet I never thought of put
ting his coat under my feet. Why, it's just
what child might do to put has feet on his
furry coat to keep 'em warm. Doyou know,
Jacob, one thing that strikes me right curl
Gus in all your fine new things ard new
ways O livin'2''
s.No, father" said Jacob ssWhata'
ssWhy, that the things that seem to cost
the most money, and that yon city folks
seem to keer for the most, air the things
that air the styoi2htest to get and do"
s'Straighest?" questioned Jacob.
eyes, straightest, easiest; at least they
seem so to me,' sad Uncle Aaron. "Why,
that talk you gave the other day in court,
that they all clapped so! Why, lad, it was
the only thing you could have said. It would
have been strange for you to have said any
different, wouldn'tits"
Jacob nodded and smiled, and Uncle
Aaron went on.: stThat's what mean; that
the things we sees to do the easiest-What
is in us to do-is the right thing for US.
And then arter it is done, every one sees it
is good, ye know, Now, about this ere
room, Jacob. Something's air right and
something's air wrong 1 mean in the 6xin's,
lad; and hev noticed that the right things
are what was easy to do, and the other
things that were a heap more trouble they
don't suit NO one now they are done.'
''Oh, fatherl father!' said Jacob, rising
unexpectedly and pacing the floor; "you
should have been in my place, you should
have had a chanceH
'sChanoe for what, lad? Money? do
rot want it. never have-that is not what
have keered for"
"What do you care forge said Jacob
s.Me? What do keer fora I don't know
how to tell ye, lad. know DON'T keer for
money-for that only means so many loads
of hemlock bark taken TO the 'tannin'.'
But it seems to me, lad, as if there must be
some other use for what's in us-some other
use. I'm no scollard; can't say what I
feels, my boy, but when l. heered you the
other day in court, pleadin' for that poor
woman, and saw the tears runnin' down
the peoples cheeks, felt as If I was a
livin' then," and Uncle Aaron rose and put
his hand on Jacobs shoulder.
''You give me new courage, father" said
Jacob: "but it's hard to live on without her
my wife"
81 know, lad. Don't ever think I forget
it. Idoesn't" There are some that help
US; even although they can not take our
burden from US, they seem to share the
weight of it.
Jacob, strong man that he was, felt steal
ing over him the same sense Of comfort
that he had felt as child in Uncle Aaron's
arms. He felt strengthened and uplifted,
better able to face the long, dreary outlook
Of lonely days to come.
Father he said, at last, s'you make me
feel like man again-like soldier that
has heard the ringing cheer of his Captain
to charge the foe. And Iwould indeed be q
co ward If fell back now"
ssMy lad.'' said Uncle Aaron, with his
tender, loving smile, s'you never have beer
acoward-and you never will be!''
CHAPTER WI
There are few SO stepped in ong-doing
as to be comfortably stupefed. Rose has
never quite forgotten for one short half
hour her deserted child and husband Uncle
Aaron's beseecning words have come back
to her ears again and again, and she feels
str nge, regretful pity whenever she
thinks OF him.
Fifteen years have passed away since she
has seen him, and on this particular day as
she is walking through the town OF Ron
dout he is in her mind. She is with her
theatrical company, and whether it is owing
to the fact that she is so near to the mount
aims or not, she has been thinking Of Uncle
Aaron all the morning. Suddenly hand
is laid upon her shoulder, and q voice says
huskily: ..Beant this Roses"
eyes why, it's your she exclaims, gaz-
ing at Uncle Aaron in surprise. He stands
there ir the sunlight, his beard and hair
very white, his gray eyes flashing with ex-
citement, his breath coming fast All
how do you do?'' she says; s'are you Wela'
| ~ efo TJr1la Aaron