The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1891-03-26

oAA~oS WV AACA A1u ever ucdTO IN CldC
room before. Through all the delicious
measures of that Incompatible melody
1t rose and fell, and when at last it
died out in wavy cadences, the tenor
| glanced toward his friend with some
thing like very tears shining in his eyes,
and the friend, jumping to his feet, ex-
claimed in nervous haste:
IL know he's your friend, Billy, but
l must share him. ] want him for my
choir. Wouldn't you like to sing in a
| choir, boy?"
eyes, SIR
Anthony's face became crimson with
delight. and the poor old Tam O'Shan-
| ter suffered more than ever at his
hands,
Il go to the Advent every Sunday
I've picked up lots of things they sing
there"
''Only there? Have you had no other
training?'
''Oh, yes, a good deal from my IA
Their, but he died more than year ago,
just after we came to this country.
There are only mother and me left,
and I've been out of job for over a
week.
well, Mr. Whiting here will soon
give you new one," the tenor said.
"Will you put him among the re-
serves, Whiting?"
with that voice? No. He can 90
| in almost at once. 1 have two vacan-
cies anyway. The last was that little
Scott Payne boy. He died on Satur-
day"
what! Mrs John Scott-Payne's boy?
Why, he's all she had
"Yes; like this little chap. He was
the only son of his mother, and she
widow-but under nightly different
circumstances"
"Ah, well, we'll! All her ducats can't
mend broken heart, and she will have
that, know. He was such a noble,
gentlemanly lad
Eyes, and fine voice. have missed
him badly, but think with very little
training this boy can take his place"
And SO it came to pass that before
johnnie Scott-Payne had been a month
in his little grave at Mt. Aut urn,
Anthony Kramer was singing in his
stead at the Church of the Nativity: and
through the desolate rooms of the cost
ly house which she no longer called
home, finding comfort nowhere, An
thongs mother, selling small wares be-
hind the counter of u little shop on Win
ter street, rejoiced unspeakably that
her boy had so providentially found his
vocation
She had no doubt whatever as to it's
being his rightful vocation, for, though
she herself was quite as gently born as
Mrs Scott-Payne, and had lived in the
purple till she had lost her heart to her
young music master and fed with him
from all the associations of her youth,
the music master had come of family
who were all musicians, and, unprofit-
able as the profession had proved to
her throughout her married life, she
had never lost faith in it. Anthony had
been named for the father whom she
had deserted, but her father died with
out forgiving her and leaving all his
wealth to distant relatives; so, having
only his name as an heritage from his
mothers side of the house, it seemed
but fitting that the boys living should
come to him by means of the gift
which had descended to him in such
liberal proportions from his father and
his fathers people.
AS the winter wore on it became
more and more apparent to the poor
young thing that this gift would soon
be the sole possession of doubly
orphaned life, for she had never been
robust, and a New England climate
made rapid inroads upon her feeble
remnant of strength, and the coming of
the foe who robs and desolates and
rever restores seemed to be mere
question of time. For herself she had
no dread of his coming, but her heart
was sore at the thought of parting with
her boy, and, however hard she tried to
nerve herself for the effort, she lacked
courage to warn him of the trial in store
for him.
In the old days he might have guessed
it for himself; but he was so happy and
busy now, basking in the sunshine of
his benefactor's increasing approval,
earning steady income among the
fraternity of which the kindly tenor
was but one, and throwing himself with
boyish fervor into his choir work, that he
never noticed how the pretty, pale face
of his mother was growing daily paler
and thinner, or if he did notice it, he
Quilted himself by thinking: Even if
she isn't quite as strong as she used to
be, I'm growing stronger all the time,
and by and by she needn't work at ALL "
For long while after his father had
been taken from them, the world had
seemed to the poor little fellow very
full of death and sorrow, but now, re-
joicing as he did in the new conditions
of his life, almost the only time the old
sadness took possession of him was
when, sitting through an especially
long service in Johnnie Scott-Paynes
place, it occurred to him to wonder
about Johnnie and Johnnie's mother.
Of her his thoughts were especially
wistfulafter he heard one of the other
choir boys saying: ''Oh, she never
comes here now, she's so cut up about
johnnie. / guess, anyway, she couldn't
bear to see Kramer in his place, for Mr.
Whiting and every body else thinks
Kramer like enough to Johnnie to be
his brother. Mr.. Whiting says he didn't
notice it until he got in to his surplice,
and then he could almost think it was
Johnnie back again.
"I'm afraid if she saw me she would
hate me- Anthony said when telling
his mother about it that night; but
when at last Mrs. Scott-Payne did see
him she was very far from hating him.
She had heard of this little boy who
was described as being so like her dead