Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1890-12-10
"I'm that beat out. I don't believe

could go any furder," said the boy.
"You shall not try. poor child
Never mind your clothes, but jump
right in. But you don't look much
like jumping, do your Here, Dick
help him into the pbaeton, please
Richard, accustomed to obey like q
good husband, halflifted the exhaust.
ed boy to seat beside him, then
Ella took her place, and they were
soon at the door of Woodlawn, the
beautiful country residence of the
Cliftons.
Billy followed his new friends into
the hall, just as Jane, the trusty and
privileged housekeeper, came from
the dining-room.
LANDS sakes. Mrs. Clifton p cried
Jane, lifting her hands, "where did
you get that young scarecrow ?"
"At the gate, Jane. See how sick
he looks. He would have persisted
if we had not found him. He must
stay here tonight, at any rate. Now
take him, like the good samaritan you
are, and give him warm food and
comfortable bed until morning"
"Not till thanks yer for what yer's
dom fur me, missus!" cried the boy ;
and taking one of Elias soft hands in
his thin clasp, he pointed upwards, and
said, chokingly, "But l can't do it,
neither. Thar's one up thar, missus,
he knows, an he'll reward yep
"There, there, run along with Jane
before you make a baby of me-" said
Ella, half-laughing, halfcrying, as
she fairly made her escape to the par
lor, where she did cry heartily for pity
at the sight of such helpless, friendless
misery.
"Poor little fellow" she said, che
shall find there are some kind hearts
in this wicked world, at least. I'm
not bit sure I'll let him go in the
morning"
In the morning the case had decided
itself. Billy was delirious with fever,
and could not lift his herd from the
pillow. But he was kindly watched
over and nursed back to health by
Ella and her trusty Jane, who gave
him unceasing care.
In his feverish talk they learned as
much of his story as could be told,
and when he was able to creep about
the house and grounds Ella told her
husband that she intended to keep him,
and not let him return to the city at
all.
1--WE can make him useful, she said,
"and it will be worth while trying,
simply for the good of saving this one
human soul"
Gail right, do as you please" an
swered Mr.. Clifton. "Only | advise
you to lock up your spoons, or some of
these fine nights your young hero will
be off with them"
~ don't think he will" returned
Ella. ANY way mean to try.
hope you will have more confidence in
him, some day, Dick"
Perhaps | shall-or less" replied
Richard, laughingly.
So poor Billy stayed at Woodlawn,
and was happier than he had ever
dreamed of being in his life. He grew
stronger every day, but it would take
a long time to restore him to perfect
health.
He conducted himself so well that
he began to gain Mr.. Clifton's good
opinion, and be trusted with various
little commissions, which were a great
delight to him.
He learned to drive, and when he
did not 90 out in the carriage with
Richard and Ella, always met them
OH their return, and assisted the coach.
man to take care of the pony, which
was the special pet of both of them.
One day the Cliftons brought home
another stranger in their carriage.
Not a poor vagrant boy this time, but
a handsome, courtly gentleman, whose
easy address and elegant attire even
Richard could not excel.
He met them at the gates of Wood
lawn and gave them his card, intro
ducing himself as the artist, Stanley
Huntingford, with whose name and
work they were already acquainted.
John came forward from the stable
and Ella asked:
Where's Billy, John ?"
IL don't know, madam. Didn't he
let you in ?"
Eyes, lie was at the gate but it is a
wonder he would miss taking the
pony"
Eyes, ma'am, so tits. j suppose he's
round the barn, somewhere"
Eyes, l dare say" And without
thinking of him again, Mrs. Clifton
followed Richard and their distinguish.
ed guest into the parlor.
Mr.. Huntington was very entertain.
ing in conversation, as well as skllful
with his pencil. His host and hostess