Capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1893-1895, 1893-11-01

longer his. In the bitterness of this
new pain he gave up all hope that
ne could ever be wanted anywhere
With these thoughts in his mind
the old man stumbled on and at last
turned In at the gate and reached the
house that he called home He
stepped out of the cold and gloom of
the night into the warmth and cheer
of the cozy little hall He paused
for a moment and held his thin
chilled fingers over the register
The grateful warmth stole in upon
his benumbed senses, and despite his
sorrow he felt a thrill of pleasure.
Then as he looked up it seemed for
an instant as if he were waking
from painful dream, for there in
the doorway stood winsome little
maiden, who eyed him with childish
curiosity. The old man was passion.
ately fond of children, and his faded
eyes grew wistful as he said in quiv.
ering tones, Come and see me, Lit.
tie one."
There was little in the gaunt old
man, with his STOPPING shoulders,
thin spectacled face and shabby,
scanty i'll fitting garments, to attract
child. But she started toward
him and was almost in his arms
when sharp voice cried: Father
Wade, what right have you to touch
here Come away, Elsie, dear, the
ugly old man will hurt you" With
these words Miss Harriet, the young
er of the daughters, led away the
child, and Parson Wade was once
more alone. The look of adherence
and terror that stole over the child's
face cut deep into the old mans
heart as his daughters cruel words
failed to do. A slight moan escaped
his lips, but dreading a fresh rebuke
he choked back rising sob and hob
bled away into the darkness of his
own room.
Half an hour later the little house
hold gathered at the tea table. Miss
Wade, tall and stately, presided with
cold dignity, and opposite her sat
Miss Harriet, with little Elsie, the
daughter of a near neighbor, who
had left the child with the Wade
women for the afternoon. The par
son took his seat, and reverently bow
ing his head moved his lips i'll mur
INJURED prayer of thanks. Instantly
his daughters began clatter of sill
yer and china, while in needlessly
loud tones they began to talk gayly
on some amusing and tr1fing sub
ject. This was a disciplinary meas
ure in their eyes. 1--WE must break
him of this absurd habit" they said
to each other in talking the matter
over. Come, you've mumbled long
cried Miss Harriet. 1.-THE
toast is getting COOL"
Little Elsie eyed the old man fur.
lively during the opening of the
meal and fidgeted uneasily in her
chair. She was a ti1nid child, and
Miss Wade's remark fingered in her
memory.
"Will he hurt me now2" she whis-
,ered to Miss Harriet after some
minutes.
why, you poor child Does he
righten you9 You'd better take
your plate and cup into the kitchen,
ather. don't wonder the child is
You really are uncanny
,onight."
So Parson Wade was vanished to
,he kitchen, there to eat his bread
and drink his weak tea alone. He
.onged for bit of meat for his sup
Der and a little cream and sugar for
his tea. Once, months before, he
had made bold to reach for the milk
pitcher, but was stopped by the
words, "Do you think we can afford
to supply you with luxuries-you
who do not earn clear tea evenT
After that he did not offend in this
way again, but tonight he watched
with almost a feeling Of envy the
sleek, well fed cat as she Tapped her
saucer of creamy milk,
Lucky cat There was always enough
food for her
On his way up stairs awhile later
Parson Wade passed the parlor door
and paused a moment to look IN
The fire was burning cheerily in the
crate, there was a cushioned char
before it, and on the table by the big
lighted lamp was the evening paper
The old man hesitated. He was never
allowed in that room, he knew, but
the "girls. he remembered, had gone
to take Elsie home, several doors
away. And that paper, he was sure
had a long report of the conference
held the day before in a nelghDorihg
CITY. The temptation was irresist-
ible He sat down in the big easy
chair and began TO read. This weary
old Christian veteran. his years OF
active service ended, yearned toI
news of the thousands OF soldiers IN
the thick of the fight, and rarely dld
a naDer or magazine enter his hands.
Tbat the work he so loved was still
going on he felt sure, but in his mar
TovV cr,amped life he longed for dc