Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1891-12-12
the early mart Of August the circus

m hthe early part of August the circus
was Aationed at seaside town, and ON
the first~sunday he had spent the whole
day upon the beach with Fairy. She
looked pathetic little figure in her black
dress, and WAS 50 pretty that many eyes
turned To look at her. and also at the
handsome man who bent over her, list
ening with smile TO her ceaseless chat
ter
When the lig... began to fade, they
went home to their poor lodging in q
quiet street; and after they had had their
simple meal she sat upon his knee silent
and tired after her happy day.
Would you like to 90 to bed, darling?
Are you tiredy' he asked.
Yes, am tired, Dick very tired. /
will go to bed; but may 1 say my prayers
TO you tonight: ! always used to say
| them to mother"
VERY well, dear" he answered.
So she knelt by his side, and clasped
her small hands together, as she repeated
her prayers ip her pretty childish treble.
| AS Dick listened to her simple petition,
his lips quivered more than once; ana,
when she had finished, he took her in hls
arms and covered her face with passion
| ate kisses as he asked
Do you always pray for me. dear one
"fes; mother said must never forget
to gay God bless dear Dick" she am
| swered: aud mt the remembrance Of her
mother she broke into sobs--a child's ont
| burst of sorrow that was soon soothed
Long after she was in bed and fast
| asleep he paced up and down the small
sitting-room with Quick uneven steps.
| The simple words of her prayer haunted
| him. Look upon little child" Yes;
| that was what he had once prayed kneel-
| ing by his mothers side-the mother
whom he had loved so dearly; and he
| could almost feel her loving goodnight
| kiss again upon his face. Back to his
memory came that sad day when, hastily
| slmmonedfrom school. he had travelled
| SO many miles to see her for the last time.
| lie was but boy then--a pure-minded
| honest boy; and now. He clenched his
hands tightly; but nothing could for one
! moment appease the agony in his heart.
| Again he traced his retrogression step by
| step--the small beginning of evil he
! thought of SO lightly-those gay wine
| parties. from which he had returned
| home with aching head and dulled brain
| those mad rides across country which
| he and his companions would take, end
| ing always in an evening of wild dissipa-
| tion. How rccklessly he had squandered
the money that his father had SO gener.
ously given him. And then had come q
| day when even the indulgent father had
| grown tired of the never-ending demands
for money. and had written TO tell his
son 10 expect nothing more except his
allowance and the check he enclosed
He remembered, as if it had happened
only the day before, how he had gazed
with dcspairing eyes ut the sinallnes5 of
| the amount compared with the debts lie
owed. and how into his aching, throbbing
/ brain had suddenly come a fiendsh
thought--he had only to alter the amount
| for which the check was made ont and
| all his difficulties would vanish. 1t would
be his money some day: he was rohbing
| nobody: and his father---well. he was
never angry long, and he might never
| find it ont: and, if he did. But there
was no need To think of that, for in few
| days time he was going home for the
long vacation, and he would then tell his
father himself. All the old arguments
| that he had used in that hour of tcmpta-
| ton came back to him. He remembered
how after a time he had struggled sue
cessfully against it, and had almost over
come it, when one of his gay cornpan-
ions came in. and together they had
drunk glass after glass of champagne,
which had soon dispelled all qualms of
conscience, and he had Yielded TO temp
tation. Then had come the bitter awak-
| ening, the fierce pangs of renlorse. the
overwhelming shame; for, when his head
was clear, he knew himself TO be thief
and forger