The herald., 1893-10-27
ENVOI.
BOUND SADLY HOME.

out livery coat with epaulets, even the
leathern strap, suspending from his
shoulder his box of knavish wares. af-
fscted a military air and countenanced
his lies and deceptions.
The face was not repulsive even now.
Some distinction appertained to the
heavy mustache, and the hollow be-
meath the high cheek bone, the crows
feet around the eyes, the tanned, weather
beaten ruddiness of his complexion,
might have betokened honorable service
In poisonous swsmps or under burning
skies, instead of shifty, footsore wander
ings with alternate hours of want and
wickedness.
He dragged himself to the dusty grass
beneath the Give Ashes" at the four
crossroads. He was faint, for the hill
had tried him, and sat painting with his
back against a tree. Then he opened his
box and began rolling infallible pills be-
tween his filthy finger and thumb. Their
composition was secret, but doubtless
they did some people lot of good.
For 20 years his heart had never sof-
tened with sentiment, his soul never
quickened with an aspiration, and now
his wandering eye, resting on a finger
post across the road, mechanically read:
'Upton. Leigh. Sutton-Darcy."
ALI so familiar once, and the last his
birthplace!
A strange impulse, absolutely unrea-
sonable, for recognition might still be
dangerous, took possession of him. An
irresistible desire to see the place again,
even though it were by stealth at night.
From the boughs above his head came
the t"pink! pinkw of chaffinch, and
through the filth and fog of quarter of
century of evil, indistinct in the fumes
of drialk and smothered in its own fulfil
ity, CLEANED a reminiscence clear and
sharp as the birds note:
An OIL farmhouse thatched and stone
built, with mullioned windows. In the
garden al tall pear tree, with yellow buds
glistening in the early spring, and be-
meath youth with gun peeping to get
a shot. Then man in breeches and hose,
elderly, basf hale, drawing half humor-
ously: way, Jack, my bwoy! Thy shots
do het off ipore buds than all the chat
fingers"
The,old people must be gone now, for
Jack was thesyoungest and the favorite
Eve and thirty years ago.
MutteSing against his own folly, he
slung onihis box and limped along the
Sutton road.
At evening he entered "The Cups" an
Inn on the outskirts of Sutton. Every
thing was as formerly-the same bench
and stools, the same oak settle by the
hearth. Two laborers playing at shovel
board called each other familiar names.
and the singsotlg of their voices brought
back the past.
"What parish may this be, please?' he
asked.
"Zutton," replied both Abs and Abe.
"a large village?"
"'Tidden 20 terrible large"
"Small?"
"Tidden 20 wonderful small"
Satisfied with the subterfuge of these
questions, he sat down and continued
eagerly:
"Any O. the name of Craddock live
here now?"
''Craddock, chr" grinned Abs. "What
d6st zay, Abe?"
"Noo fearr' said Abe.
! He hesitated. But the longing to
know overcame his Judgment like the
craving of vice.
"And the farm at the foot of the hill.
Who lives theref"
''Mr. Craddock, be sure. Warmer
William
"When came this way before, some
body-people called Sandford"-
"Ha! hap laughed Abs. ''Then you
be a woldish bird, not Matched last sum-
mer. Why, the old man have a-bin dead
these 90 year. An the maid married
Warmer William, an he took on the farm.
But years avore she thought to a-married
one Jack But he took to hose racen,
80 ties said, an signed somebody's name
IN bolted. Never didden hear no more
o. he. But you be old file. What dost
Eay, Abe?"
moo fear" said Abe.
John Craddock nervously rose,
Strengthened his back and fell into his
familiar patter.
eyes. I'm an old soldier, wounded in
the trenches before Sevastopol and
starved at Cawnpoor, and when I'd split
my blood and ruined fine constitution
in the service of my native land they
gave me my discharge and threw me
upon the world without a penny. But,
happily, among the prisoners taken by
the British forces in that memorable war
was the private physician to the Rance
of Jhansi. Seeing me writhing with
rheumatism--tow which, gentlemen, Twas
then a martyr-his feeling heart confided
to me, under an oath of secrecy, the in
sstilnable blessing of never failing
esmedy. These pills, gentlemen, taken
sn time are a reliable cure. If you have
sver seen crooked legs stiff arms or
back as bowed as reaping hook, take
couple of these pills-four and twenty in
each box. Tho price is twopence, and l
guarantee, if kept dry, the contents will
never deteriorate. Thank you, gentle
men. wish you good evening""
His glibness had been successful; but,
i'll at ease, he shuffied on to the old
house with the pear tree. A silver
manned saalt- was.Rsach hing aver tha nads