Western liberal. (Lordsburg, N.M.) 1887-1919, 1891-03-13

wick saw him. Hurry up, there he
said roughly.
~ do not care for lunch,' he said re-
spectfully, bending lower to his task.
The boss, wen pleased, passed ON and
out Of the shop, reiterating his order as
he went.
you'll kill yourself working like that
an goin' 'thout catin', the way you've
been doin' SO much"
Joe Walton spoke bluntly, but he
meant wen and was kind at heart-the
best friend Jem had in the shops. He
lent Jem a helping hard.
Jem smiled his thanks.
'Still thinhin' Of goin'g' asked Joe
obviously.
Jem ifted a flushed, surprised face
and eyes.
Certainly, he answered, with calm
emphasis.
"What if you lose yer placer
"Tl try and manageit so l 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 and 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 mp his old cap.
Somehow / wish you wouldn't, Jem,"
Joe said huskily, but the boy was gone.
What a lovely night that wasl A por-
ton of the road to the depot led through
a little strip of woods, the machine
shops being just out Of the small village.
The moon was at its full and shed its
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 a
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 mis- 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 train was running swiftly in.
The station was upon the other side Of
the track. One bound to cross it.
"Motherr" he shouted. She heard
him, smiled and waved her hand.
Jem saw it, and thenl
There was q loud outcry and q sudden
lurch of the train, and the carr stood
still.
Every one had arisen. The little wom-
an among them.
Something had happenedl What?
Through the dil and commotion she
heard some cue speak her boys name.
"Jem Matherl'
Dazed and bewildered, joins 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 n 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 a 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 a look from which the light has moi
all faded, seem always trying to under
stand.
Kind friends have not left her wholly
desolate.
"The boys" care for her for the sake Of
the lad who was marked down. Mrs.
s. G. Hazlett in Detroit News.