The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1891-02-13
Hurry up, there" he

said roughly.
81 do not care for lunch" he said re-
spectfully, bending lower to his task.
The boss, well pie d, passed on and
out Of the shop, reiterating his order as
he went.
You'll kill yourself working like that
an goin' 'thout eatin', the way you've
been dom so much"
Joe Walton spoke bluntly, but he
meant well and was kind at heart-the
best friend Jem had in the shops. He
lent Jem helping hand.
Jem smiled his thanks.
"Still thinkin' Of goin'?" asked Joe
obviously.
Jcm lifted a flushed, surprised face
and eyes.
Certainly" he answered, with calm
emphasis.
what if you lose yer placer
"I'll try and manageit so won't. You
see I'm workin' overtime now"
"'Twon't make no difference with
him." Joe sighed and nodded.
Nothing more was said. Side by side
the boy ard man toiled, Jem keeping a
close watch on the clock.
Its half past Z, Joe. I'll go now.
You'll hardly miss me before I'll be
back" Jem took up his old cap.
Somehow wish you wouldn't, Jem,"
Joe said huskily, but the boy was gone.
What lovely night that vast A por-
ton of the road to the depot led through
little strip of woods, the machine
shops being just out of the small village.
The moon was at its full and shed it's
soft silver radiance over everything as
with a halo. A dewy fragrance came
up from the moistened mold and filled
the evening air, together with the redo
lence of the wild flowers, coming with
grateful sweetness to the flushed face
and tired brain of Jem Mather, with the
thought of how mother" would enjoy
this, after the cramped, narrow life in
the great dusty city.
The rustling leaves seemed to whisper
Don't hurry, Jem," but he could not
walk, so ran swiftly along, wiping the
perspiration from his face as he went.
Hank! the whistle of the incoming
train-then the low, heavy rumble, and
now, now it is in sight.
The boy took off his ragged cap and
tossed it high in the air. "Hurra! hur-
RAJ" he shouted with his blue eyes full
of moisture.
He caught sight Of the little pale faced
mother looking eagerly from the car
window, and knew her at once.
The station was upon the other side Of
the track. One bound to cross it.
"Mother" he shouted. She heard
him, smiled and waved her hand.
Jem saw it, and then!
There was Il loud cutlery and sudden
lurch of the train, and the cars stood
still.
Every one had arisen. The little wom-
an among them.
Something had happened! What?
Through the din and commotion she
heard some one speak her boys name.
"Jem Mather!"
Dazcd and bewildered, Jems mother
reached the platform.
She seemed so alone in all that throng;
and where was Jem? Where was her
. boy?
Then something was borne swiftly
past her.
She saw and mutely followed.
No one seemed TO notice the little
strange woman or to wonder who she
was.
The face, all bruised and bleeding, that
she stood looking down upon was not
winter than her own, and the dead,
sightless eyes held still smile in their
blue depths.
Some one led her away at length
Come with me-" said the rough,
kindly tear filled voice of Joe Walton.
The news had been borne TO the shops
at once, and Jem's best friend came.
Yes, the little mother still lives; the pale
face. winter grown, and the dark eyes,
with look from which the light has not
all faded, seem always trying to under
stand.
Kind friends have not left her wholly
desolate.
1.-The boys" care for her for the sake of
the lad who was marked down. Mrs.
S. c. Hazlett in Detroit News.