The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1893-07-27


lions when they arrived Sc the upper
fioor he showed hsr to the door 81 the
,sanctum and told her 70 knock. Then
he left her and went back to his post.
The editor was greatly surprised
when timid knock sounded on his
door and in answer TO his come inn he
saw over his gold bowed spectacles the
dtminutives maiden who entered. He
looked hard At her, hut she did not aI,.
pear discounted. She came toward
him without hesitation and stood with
one little hand resting on the edge Of
the desk. the other extending the folded
manuscript.
Gran'pop forgot to bring it down,
sol fetched it!' she explained, her blue
eyes looking up into his puzzled gray
ones.
Now, the editor was not q man easily
confused, but this was novel ex-
Perience even for him. In all his life
he never remembered having received
in his Office SO small and at the same
time SO confident a visitor as this. He
looked at her sharply, almost sternly,
suspecting he was the victim of some
joke; but her gaze never finched and
the baby eyes were not frightened. He
took the manuscript from her grasp
and opened it. There was no solution
OF the mystery to be obtained here,
however. The story was some local
history of early days. There was no
name, no mark of any kind to tell who
wrote it or where it came from. Nom
tplussed. he turned his eyes upon the
little figure beside him. Somehow, in
spite of the old-fashioned and much
worn clothes, it suggested to him that
OF little one who once had called him
father, and a kindly smile lit his face.
II don't know anything about this
paper" he said ''Who did it come
from?' = ~.
"From gran'pop," she answered, as if
that conveyed full information.
'Yes, but who's gran'pop? l don't
remember him" = 49, ~.-5. ~
''Why, doE't you know him? He's
been here often, and came with him
once or twice, that's how l knew where
it was.'' go. .... w.
The editor racked his brain in vain to
think who gran'pop could be.
'Well," he said at last, ''you sit down
in that big chair over there and I'll look
over this paper and tell you what to say
to him." Then he wheeled his chair
about and began reading. =
1t didn't take long, however, for him
to decide what to do. He struck hand
bell on the desk and boy came into
the room. ''Send MIR. Campbell to me!''
the editor said.
A moment later the'city editor of the
Chronicle entered.
Campbell" said the editor, do you
know whose writing that is?'' and he
handed him the manuscript.
''Yes," said the other; ''it's old John
Harmon's. He brought it in here this
morning and 1 told him we couldn't
use it. It's all ancient history
'WelP' said the editor, bit shortly,
''it's the kind of ancient history that
the Chronicle wants. Can't you see
that that's local matter that a good
many would rather read than news?
Give it good place on the fourth page
of to-morrow's issue, and I'll try to see
that we have q column of just such
stuff twice week. That's ALP
The city editor did not see the little
figure in the big chair, and, q bit dis
concerted at. being turned down so
sharply, he took up the manuscript
again and left the room, wondering
what was the matter with the "old
man." and how the historical stuff had
come into his hands.
When he had gone the editor drew a
sheet of paper toward him. Looking
at the little figure in the chair he sal d
II will write letter for you to take
with you and give to gran'pop."
She nodded her head wisely. and he
rapidly wrote a few lines Then he
folded the sheet, put it in an envelope
and rose.
The little girl slipped out of the chair
and came across to him. "Good- by!''
he said, laying hand on her head,
land come and see me some time
again. Then he opened the door and
watched her ring the bell and disap-
pear in the elevator.
The elevator boy was quite deferen-
tial to her going down; but she paid no
more attention to him than before.
When she slipped out of the building
she hurried up the street, the letter in
her hand. As she turned the corner
near home she saw ''Gran'pop" just en-
tering the door and ran hard to catch
him; but he had gone in before she came
up. so she knocked on the door. The
same instant it was pulled open hur.
riedly and the old man, white and trem-
bling, stood in the frame.
THANK God!'' he breathed, drawing
her up in his arms and burying his face
in her curls. Il thought you were lost. 2"
mo, only been to tn officer ex-
claimed Polly, clinging to his neck.
ITO the Office! Where do you
mean?"
9TH Chronicle Office. took tn writ.
ing down there you left on tn chair and
tn editor gave me letter for you; he
was awful nice.''
The old man took the envelope she
held toward him and dropped into a
chair. With child drawn close against
him he broke the paper with trembling
fingers, and read:
The DAILY CHRONICLE.
No 40 -Street {
JOHN HARMON, Esq, Dear Sir: We will use
your paper on local history in to-morrow's is
sue We will be pleased to have you contribute
. column Of like matter rs often as you can
give 1t to us, for which We will pay at our regu-
lar space rates. Yours truly,
c. NJ HAPGooD Managing Editor.
There was mist before the old
mans eyes as he-read the last words.
''Was he cross, gran'pop?' queried
Polly, seeing the tears.
mo, Polly" said the old man. strain
ing her to him; ''he has given us lots to
do, but it shall not interfere with your
.playtime, little one. Kate Fields
Washington. ~