San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1892-03-30
III.


Franklin was going to South America
with party who were to survey the
route Of new railroad. The scheme
promised finely; the salary was good.
There was no attempt at concealing that
the task would be arduous, and even
dangerous. 1t was the sort of thing to
fire young mans imagination. 1t
would establish his reputation in his
profession.
He told her all this. She listened, feel
ing that three years of separation bal
anced it all Then q horrible thought
arose-South America was a land of
volcanoes aud earthquakes, wild beasts
and desperadoes.
"You may die therer she gasped.
"You may be killed.
81 may, and brick may drop on my
head from an old chimney, or lightning
strike me; or may be stricken with
typhoid fever before / CO." he said.
Doesn't the minister tell US every Sun
day that in the midst Of life we are in
DEATH"
He felt it hard that his grandmother
and Doris should both insist on being
miserable when he needed to be cheered
himself, and there was no longer any
thought in his mind of declining the ap-
pointment and asking the storekeeper to
take him as clerk. He hated to leave
home, but the spirit of adventure which
smolders in the heart of every youth
who is worth anything had blazed up ct
last, and he looked forward with de-
light.
So at last he caught Doris in his arms,
kissed her twenty times, said, Don't
forget me, darling" and ran away.
And shortly pale, tearstained little
face, so startled even Uncle Matthias,
who had dread Of sick women and doc
tors bills, that he gave Doris half holi-
day.
She spent it watching the railway de-
pot, her face hidden by blue veil, and
so saw Franklin's final parting with his
grandmother.
Remember, always put on thy wooden
socks if it rains, Franklin" the old lady
called shrilly from the platform after the
train had Tted, "boys are so careless"
And the young civil engineer periled
ais neck 20 answer, "All right, grand
mother"
And nobody laughed but one idiot.
Oh, the uneventfuI, lonely days. Oh
the weary waiting.
Old Mrs. Fairfax had her servant, a
girl from the Orphans home, and some
times invited tea company, but old Mat
thias had driven everybody from his
house by his queer ways, and it was only
now and then that Doris managed to see
Miss Chandler, and when at last GER
tain erudite professor, who had been
paying cautious attentions" for five
years, really offered himself and led that
amiable lady to the matrimonial altar
and afterward to New York, Doris had
nobody whatever.
Oh, if the stately old Quakeress on the
other side of the fence would have but
nodded and smiled as she went by,
would now and then have talked to her.
But the cameolike profile in the border
less cap was always presented to her,
and no consciousness Of the presence of
Matthias Morton's folks" was visible
in the blue eye that so resembled Frank
Inns.
i The old lady had comfortable in
come, the interest of money in the bank,
and her house. She had been very liberal
to Franklin, and had spent good deal
on him while he was at school and col
iege. He had left her very well off for
a lone woman. But it is that which we
least expect that Oftenest happens. Tho
CORTLAND bank was supposed to be as
substantial as the Pyramids until the
day it closed its doors. Then the people
found that it had been as hollow as a
last years chestnut for long while.
Among the depositors was Grandma
Fairfax. She had lost everything.
Matthias Morton cnuckled over his SUI
perior wisdom in having nothing in the
bank to lose.
"Widder Fairfax thinks she knows all
her thing or two"
'Then you should, uncle" Doris said.
"Mebbe l might eff she'd done the cor
rect thing about them pigs" Matthias
said.
AS for the Quakeress, her placid face
showed no disturbance.
Sne SOFA ner land, RETAINING ESse ht,ss5:
and front garden, and put the three
thousand dollars she thus gained into
the closet with her silver.
81 do not deem it advisable to trust
banks" she said. "The cash in hand
will last me until the return of my
grandson"
Then the village prophets prophesied
evil, sitting on the barrels of the village