The Mt. Sterling advocate. (Mt. Sterling, Ky.) 1890-current, 1894-06-05

nv1ng.
Instead of returning home through
the principal street, went through
side streets. l crossed the river,
which was low enough for me to
wade it, and l thus arrived under our
back windows--those which faced
the garden. l was about 10 yards
from the house when shrek Of pain
which words cannot describe rooted
me to the spot. At that time surgeons
used neither chloroform nor ether to
put their patients to sleep. They cut
into the quivering flesh, and nature
howled under the scalpel. I do not
know how long the torture of my
father lasted nor what suffered by
contre coup When l came again to
my senses, was lying fat on my
face in largo geranium bed, with
my mouth full of earth and some
torn flowers in both of my hands. Ev-
erything was still around me. rose,
shook myself and entered the house
more dead than alive. My heart al
most stopped beating. At the foo,
of the stairs met my poor mother.
"'Well, mammaH
'Reassure yourself. The opera
ton is over, and the doctor says all
is going well.
"She then began to be astonished
to see me there, to scold me for my
disobedience and to bewail my new
clothes, which the dust of the route,
the water of the Zorn and the earth
of the garden had put in sad plight.
Our dear patient slept. They hid
from him the news of my return un-
til the end of the week, for fear that
he would be dissatisfied, since it was
by his order that we had been sent
away. He had, however, to be told
the truth. Mother could have no Sc
crets from him. He wanted to see
me, reassure me himself and show
me that he was much better. 1t was
happy moment for us all. Hewept
nearly as much as mother and 1.
"'Dear papa, said 1 to him while
wiping away his tears, I know all.
Why have you deceived me-you,
who are truth itself2'
~ am not sorry for it, answered
he. Sometimes, but very rarely,
lying becomes a duty. If misfor-
tune had happened, was to sadden
all your ifetimeT
"'No matter / feel that l shall
never get over it
81 will console you. First of all,
we shall not leave each other until
the expiration of your vacation. You
shall be my bodyguard. Poor child,
you have suffered enough of my pain
now; you should be allowed to enjoy
little of my convalescence.'
From that day there began be-
tween us an almost brotherly init
macy which rendered him dearer to
me and made me wiser. The terri
BILE accident had taught me prudence.
My fathers courage and kindness
finished my education by giving me
an example.
zone evening was lamenting at
his bedside, as was wont to do, for
he was cured long before was con-
soled. He interrupted me, saying:
One of us has been as thoughtless as
the other. Your fault was due to
your age, and I ought to have fore
seen it and put myself on guard
against it. My part as a teacher and
a father was not to wait for a, rabbit
200 yards away from you, but to fol-
low you and direct you, without
hunting on my own account. And it
is thus that I shall do next year.
No. exclaimed /, with warmth.
I shall never hunt again.
"'You will hunt, my boy. I wish
it, said my father. You will hunt
because hunting is an exercise admi-
rably adapted to take numbness out
Of the limbs of a notary. Besides, a
time will come, perhaps, when any
Frenchman used to firearms will be
worth four ordinary men for the de-
Tense of his country
my mother could not easily be
contented with the idea of having
two hunters in the house. Poor wom-
an, after IL years OF married life she
still trembled every time that papa
took his gamebag and his gun.
"'Well, said she, what cannot be
prevented must be endured. But if
Albert is to return to the chase l will
give him a talisman which will pre-
serve him from imprudence in the
future
''This talisman l still have, and
here it is. 1t is the pin which you
may have remarked in my cravat.
Do you see that silver dove which
carries at the end of a little chain a
grain of shot No. 70. Poor dear
mother Franck had it chased for me
by Heller, the most skillful jeweler
of Strasburg. This molecule of met
al, reduced nearly to nothingness by
rubbing, is the same which almost |
killed my father How can a man
forget himself when on every hunt
ing day he has such a reminder be-