St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1894-08-09

THE TALE OF Il LOST SHOE.

earb was coarse, and his language
what little of the English he had
mastered-was hard" as the ex-
preston goes. Lars had not been
reared in luxury. His father had
been a day-laborer, and lived IN a
little house on the outskirts OF a vii
Iape in the old His mother
had worked too, when she could
find EMPLOYMENT, and Lars was
forced out to shift for himself at an
early age.
When he had reached his twentieth
year, he had saveI enough money 10
pay his passage to America IN the
storage of an ocean liner. Stock
holm was the first great city he had
ever seen. New York was larger,
and was full of strange life. When
he landed in Castle Garden, he was
lost in the babel of tongues that
greeted his ears. Gradually he work
ed Westward, and at last reached
Chicago. He stopped and again
sought work.
Chicago was his Mecca.
He drifted into the lower chan
nels of life. How could he have done
otherwise.
One Sunday he passed by the open
door of a mission, heard the singing
and paused. A kindly nan asked
him in and he entered, taking a seat
neal the door. Presiding at the or
a was a dark-eyed young woman,
neatly dressed, and sweet-taced.
When she sang, it was in full tones
which inspired confidence in the way
ering voices of the congregation.
The congregation? 1t was made up
of lust such men as Lars. A
few were there who wore black
clothes, high collars and white ties.
When the singing was over, one OF
these men spoke, vigorously, earn
estlv, in the first flush of collegiate
enthusiasm. Lars did not under
stand the words of the song that
followed the sermon, but he caught
the inspiration, and watched the
side face of the woman at the organ.
Then there was a little intermlss1on,
and the Sunday school convened.
The organist stepped down from the
platform, took her position among
the benches and began her work as in
an infant class. Lars was escorted
to a seat in the row over which she
presided. She talked TO him, and he
stammered out his replies in broken
English, but showed that he had
considerable knowledge of the Bible.
You must come next Sunday"
she said.
He followed her to the door and
saw her enter a carriage, saw a
coachman in livery mount the box
and drive away Lars followed the
carriage to Michigan boulevard, and
lost sight of it in a taugle of tally
hos and fashionable turnouts.
The next Sunday he was early at
the mission, though it was raining
hard and the streets were muddy.
He feared the organist would not
come. She came. Again he watch
ed when she led the singing, and he
attempted to join in the song. When
classes were called, he took his place
in the organist's row, and sat in
front of her. The lesson was the
story of Christ and the leper. He
touched the leper and made him
whole" the organist said, and as
she said it, she leaned forward and
with her delicate, jeweled fingers,
touched the red hand of Lars. The
OlOOu nOuHlCO ~ Ills (HCCh, anu
burned against his forehead, and
throbbed against every pore in his
body. Could he understand? He
understood, though he could not say
SO. His tongue clave to the roof of
his mouth. He felt that every eye
was upon him. Then the singing
came, and he walked out into the
sooty air and rain.
The organist stopped to talk with
one of the young ministers. When
she came out, she tripped lightly
across the grimy planks, and, with a
hounce OF skirts, vas IN her carriage.
A dainty rubber overshoe was left in
the mud at the edge Of the pavement.
Lars saw it and ran to pick it up for
her. He was too late.
Lars carried the shoe home, wash.
ed it clean of the mud, kissed it, and
thrust it into his pocket-a treasure;
a token. That night it was beneath
his pillow.
Lars was out of work. The land
lord took possession of his bundle of
clothing and drove him into the
streets on Thursday. The day was
clear and bright, and from early
morning until the noon hour Lars
Swanson had passed from place to
place, seeking employment. Noon
found him on Michigan boulevard.
He thought of the %organist. 1t was
up this street that she had been
driven. The broad pavements were
tempting, and he strobe on and on,
southwark. until he came to the
railroad tracks at Sixteenth street.
There was a cry Of alarm from the
gateman. A woman In a pony
chase was about to drive upon the
tracks in front of a train. Lars saw
her face ana Lnau har PuShinn