The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1892-09-08

cine makers. she sticned boots wnen
that seldom work offered. She knit
and sewed. She did not know an idle
moment the year around.
By years of patient toll Abby had
reduced the amount of the mortgage
to 800. And one night. when she
looked at her bank book and counted
the days receipts, she found enough
to cansel the debt. 1t was matter OF
veriiication only, for she knew to a
cent the state of her finances
Pardonal,ly she wept little that her
work was accomplished. The goal was
reached she had set, and beyond which
she had not before looked. Now she
was brought face to face with blank
ness. Whittier should she wander
through it, and what should she strive
for? She asked herself these ques-
tions, for it was borne in upon her that
the old desire was thing of the past,
being gratitied. and that she must dis
cover new one. Through anticipa-
ton her hope had mirrored brightly,
but now she found its reverse side
dull, and with the disappointment
mingled bitter surprise that it was
so.
The widow broke in upon this con-
jured-up sadness with real living sor-
row OF her own. She was crying, and
all Abby'S heart tenderness went out
to her at once, for the widow was a
proud little woman, and had kept her
griefs at home until now, fairly driven
for consolation to Abby's kindly arms.
And there she lay and sobbed her
story-how Jim had been placed under
bonds and had broken them. and could
not pay and must go away to some
prison. Little by little she lay bare
the Trial of desolate years, and Abby
listened sympathetically.
Jim could get away" said the
widow; "he would 90 into the navy, as
his father did. jim always wanted to.
but | couldn't let him 90; he is all /
have. He can do nothing else, and |
would not let him 90. | was so selfish
l kept him against his leaning-and
now he must 60 to prison. 1t is
judgment on me-"
And Abby consolcd her distress and
lulled her to rest as gently as she
would Il grieving child.
The next day Abby strobe down the
white road to the village and drew all
her money from the bank. The
cashier joked her upon extravaganza.
Going to buy gold-heeled shoes
now, Abby?"
She looked up smiling. "Yes, my
gold-heeled shoes. Took a long time
to pay for them, didn't it?"
Il wish we might all get them if it
would make us look as happy as you
do now" said he.
Abby marched from the bank into
the presence of the town officials sit
ting on jim Barker's case. The con-
stable was there, ready to conduct him
to the state reformatory.
what will it cost to get Jim OFF,"
she demanded.
"One hundred dollars" said the
clerk.
Abby counted the amount on the
table, while all in the room stared.
"Come, Jim." said she
Jim camo from las conssa Sls- guarded
corner and followed her out He was
amazed. His malodorous career had
not brought him many acts of kind
ness at the town peoples hands. "What
does this mean, Miss Abby?" he said,
huskily.
She smiled at him reassuringly.
Just this, Jim-gold heeled shoes.
And, jim, 90 home now and say good
by TO your mother. Then be a good
sailor-and a man"
Quickly he stood bareheaded. "Be-
fore God, I'll try" he said.
That night the widow again lay in
Abby's arms. "Jim's gone; ne told
me ALL" she whispered. "How could
you? Abby, Abby, here I've lived
beside you for years and l never knew
YOU"
Il haven't changed speck," said
Abby, in affected grimness, her face
turned away.
abby, don't turn away; you've
saved jim. You've saved me. And
think what it cost! Oh, Abby, your
gold-heeled shoes!"
There, don't mind. Leather is
good enough the rest of the way"
Il can never pay you back, Abby,
but while | have Il crust Oh, Alb
by, | can't tell you all | think" she
cried, for the event bore poetic fancy
into her plain-furnished mind. "But
| do believe your gold-heeled shoes are
laying up for you to walk the streets
of paradise. "-Hapey'S Weekly,