The Bessemer indicator., 1893-04-01

was . bitter awakening, yet amid It
all the old man was full of hope. de-
termination and battle. He had little
faith In drugs and nursing and pro-
fessional skill; he remembered that
ttpon previous occasions cures had
been wrought by means of money;
teeth had been brought through, the
pangs of collie beguiled. and numerous
other ailments to which infancy is
heir had by the came specific been
bafflcd. So now old Growly set about
wOoing his little boy from tho en-
brace OF death---sought to coax him
back to health with money, and the
dimes became dollars, and the tin
bank was like to burst of fullncss
But little Abel dropped and dropped,
and he lost oil interest in other
things, ard no was content to lie,
drooping-eyed and listless, in his
mothers arms all day. At last tho
little flame went out with hardly so
much as futter, and tho hope of the
house of Dunklee was dissipated for
of tho little cripple's suffering the
father struggled to call back the old
look into the fading eyes and the old
smile into the dear, white face. He
brought treasures from his vaults
and held it up before those fading
eyes and promised it all. all, all
everything he possessed - gold.
houses. lands-all he had he would
give to that little child if that little
child would only live. But the fad
ing eyes saw other things and the
ears that We're deaf to the old mans
lamentations heard voices that
soothed the anguish of that last
solemn hour. And so little Abel
knew the mystery.
Then the old man crept away from
that vcstige of his love and stood
alone in the night and lifted up his
face and beat his bosom and moaned
at the stars, asking over and over
again why he had been so bereaved,
and while he agonized in this wise
and cried there came to him voice
a voice so small that none else
could hear; voice seemingly from
God, for from infinite space beyond
those stars it sped its instantaneous
there.
"Abel, ] have touched thy hearth
And so, coming into the darkness
of night, old Dunklee went back into
the light OF day and found life bea,i-
tiful, for the touch was in his heart.
After that. Old Growly's way of
dealing with the world changed. He
had always been an honest man.
honest as the world goes. But now
he was somewhat better than hopest
he was kind, considerate, merciful.
People saw and felt the change, and
they knew why it was so. But the
pathetic part it all was that Old
Growly would never admit-no, not
even to himself-that he was the
least changed from his old grinding,
hard self. The good deeds he did
were not his own; they We're his little
boy's-at least so he said And it
was his whim when doing some kind
and tender thing to lay it to little
Abel, of whom he always spoke as if
he were still living His workmen.
his neighbors. his townsmcu-all
alike felt the graciousness of the
wondrous change, and many. all!
many lowly sufferer blessed that
broken old man for succor in
little Abefs name. And the old man
was indeed much broken: not that
he had parted with his shrcwdness
and acumen, for rs of old his every ven
ture prospered; but in this particular
his mind seemed weakened; that as
have said, he fancied his child lived,
that he was given to low muttcrings
and incoherent mumblings of which
the burden seemed to be that child of
his, and that his greatest pleasure
appeared now to be watching other
little ones ut their play. In fact. so
changed was he from the Old Growly
of former years, that, whereas he had
then been wholly Indifferent to the
presence of those little ones upon
earth. he now sought their company
and delighted to view their innocent
and mirthful play. And so presently
the children. from regarding him ut
first with distrust, came to coniidc in
and love him, and in due time the old
man was known far and wide as Old
Grandpa Growly, and he was pleased
thereat 1t was his wont to go every
fair day, of an afternoon, into park
hard by his dwelling and mingle
with the crowd of little folk there;
and when they were weary of their
sports they used to gather about him
some even clambering upon his
knee-and hear him tell his story, for
he had only one story to tell. and that
was the story that lay next his heart
the story ever and forever begin
ming with "Once ther' wuz littl'
boy" A very tender little story it
was, too, told very much more
sweetly than ! could ever tell it. for
it was of Old Grandpa's own little
boy, and 1t came from that heart in
which the touch--thc touch of God
himself-lay like priceless pearl.
The curious part of it was this:
That while he implied by his conf
dences to the children that his own
little boy was dead, he never made
that admission to others. On the
contrary, it was his wont, as l have
said. to speak of little Abel as If that
child still lived, and humoring him
in this conceit it was the custom of
the older ones to speak always of
that child as if he lived and We're
known and beloved OF all. In this
custom tho old man had great con-
tent and solacc. For it was his wish
that all he gave to and did for char
ity's sake should be known to come,
not from him. but from Abel, his son.
and this was his express stipulation
at all such times. | know whereof |
speak. for was one of those to whom
the old man came upon time and |
said: "My little boy-Abel. you
know-will give me no peace till l
II tph hOy hn l., In. l,t