The record-union., 1893-02-23

CONVICTION; II called her," and this dec
laration brought forth the assertion:
:. on can bet your life he knows"
The doctor came and went; the helpless
hgure upon the bed breathed heavily,
and Babe, sitting closely beside it,
watched faithfully, calling out cheerfully
with every motion Of the one arm which
stli! held life, "Ps here, papar' And at
night, when for short while sleep would
overcome him, he always wakened with
the same reassuring words son his lips:
Papa, rs herein
( ON the third day the lonely, loving lit
! tie watcher obtained a look of recogni-
ton. 1t was a day of days with him, be-
cause that night his mother came. He
sat upon the bed holding his fathers
hand, and pondered over what the neigh
( bors had termed Burke's illneSs-''a Visi-
tatlOn of God" Babe neither knew nor
/ proiessed to know what the term meant,
( except that II denoted trouble; perhaps
his mothers absence was visitation, 100.
/ W hen she entered the room she was SO
/ much more beautiful than he remem-
/ Dered her that he looked first in doubt.
but as she bent over Burke and gazed
tenderly upon his unconscious face a look
OF assurance came into Babes eyes; lie
slipped from the bed and buried his face
III the skirt Of her gown. Then she
/ turned from her husband and caught the
child in her arms and kissed him as only
his mother could.
My little son, whom [ most selfshly
and cruelty iorsooki" she cried. 81 util
tins moment l had not realized how
wicked l have been; but we shall never
part again except you leave mer' The
rosy palms pressed her cheeks in the old
caressing way, but Babe was dumb with
joy.
/ 1.-THE sound Of her voice Burke opened
/ his eyes. He struggled to speak, but
could not control his tongue 10 form a
! single word. lie was trying to say, and
she knew it, My wiie." He lifted his
right arm as she bent over him and drew
her face 10 his. And Babe listened in
/ grave surprise while she accused herself
and called Burke more endearing names
than he had ever heard before.
He'll get well now.' thought Babe.
Ere many days Burke could speak
slowly and not at all distinctly, but his
VIE perfectly understood him.
- ont ask forgiveness" he said. 81
had ii in my heart to do you a greater
wrong than you could ever do to me. [
always called you Wife, and every time l
called you so | thought l lied. Tve only
just found out that it was Gods truth. l
| was married before toa woman that made
my life Il burden. I'd've killed man
who nagged me so, but l could never
quarrel With woman or strike a child.
1 lett her most all | had, an come yer. an
! took up this claim. l never meant to
! look nigh woman, but you drifted yer
an L got crazy about you, an married
You in spite of fate. | was miser' BILE for
fear OF bein' found out, an 1 thought your
restlessness was n judgment on me. [
| stood it till long after you went awav. but
finally l couldn't bear it any more. am
wroie to see. An she-the woman | run
away from-had died before we was mar
RED. on was my wife; | never called
you amlss. My name amt Burke,
rightly-never mind what it was: it's
what you call me. Nobody on earth has
gotta claim on me save Babe and you"
And her story? No matter. She told
the truth, and was believed.
Burke recovered slowly, and at length
could walk with his wiie's aid, or with a
cane. These were the happiest days of
his life, he was fond of saying, His wife
managed the little fruit farm to perfec-
ton. Burke not only advised her in har-
vesting the crop of prunes and figs, but
IN planting other acres, for the land had
been irrigated and was marvelouslv
fruitful. Babe was i'll a state of constant
| beatitude, and so in truth was his mother,
for she found had out how to be useful to
those she loved.
She told herself, believing that Burke
would fully recover; yet one day, upon
returning with Babe from some work she
had been experimenting, she found her
husband again stricken, ana sitting quite
lnsensible in his chair. Medical aid was
brought quickly, and later Burke opened
his eyes, and looked wistfully into her
face. MY wife, his look said, AZ am so
happy with you [ cannot bear to die.'
She was mixing draught the physician
had prescribed, and calling all her old
skill in acting to her aid she kissed him,
smiling.
Its all right, DEAR" she said, "Drink
| this slowly, and then go to sleep. You
will be better when you wake.'
And he was.
The neighbors are still fond of telling
| the strangers who visit the now fertile
valley how Babe, at 3 years of age,
walked two miles for aid when Burke
had his first visitation" At each repe-
tition of the story the day grows hotter
and Babe younger; but of his hiding the
letter, and thus averting scandal, the
neighbors never knew. They usually in
troduced the tale in this wise
That's the finest fruit ranch in the
valley-run by woman, too-Burke's
widow. handsome and very young,
though it's of no use for anyone to think
of her marrying again. When she speaks
or listens she looks straight through you
with those wonderful eyes of hers, for she |
sees two things only; if she smiles, she is
thinking OF her son; at all other times, |
Burke's grave.-Beebe Crocker, in Over
land Monthly.