The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1895-10-16

John drew the horses up beside the
platform, where the stranger sat, lean
ing against the wall of the station,
and clambered out of the wagon.
Are you Mr.. Tom UolemanP" he
asked, producing the telegram as he
would a letter of introduction and
handing it to the other as an evidence
OF good faith on his part.
The man took off his hat, brushed
back his grayish-brown hair and nod
ded. Then, as if fearing that that
silent acknowledgment of his identity
was insufficient demonstration, he
added:
''Yes, am. Who are your"
"Tm the general manager of Miss
Abbie's place, John answered, with a
touch of resentment at the brusque-
ness of the speaker. ''!She sent me
down to meet you. Are you ready !"
For answer the gentleman climbed
up to the seat beside the driver, and
twenty minutes later he followed John
up the path to the hall door; it was
as grave dignifed exponent of an
old-school politeness that he met Miss
Abbie ON the threshold.
"My dear aunt" he said, taking
both her hands in his and drawing her
toward him. 81 am glad to SEQ you.
Can you honestly say as much?"
That clannish little woman's lonely
heart was filled to overhowing with
the Joy of having some one who called
himself by the family name come into
her life and greet her affectionately,
and her ever-ready tears trickled down
on his strong white hand.
"Ah," she cried, forgetting that she
had no nephew, never did have a
nephew and never could have a
nephew. "You are welcome, indeed.
L am more than glad to see you"
At dinner, when Tom Coleman sat
opposite his new found aunt, he had
au opportunity to study her mi
nutely.
"Do you know, Aunt Abbie," he
said, ruefully, lit makes me feel like
an overgrown schoolboy to address
you SO. I had you all pictured out
in my mind. You were to be at least
fifteen years my senior, and 1 am
forty. Yet here l fiud you still in the
thirties, and as pretty aud fresh look
ing as girl in her teens. can't ac-
count for it. Had not already known
that you we're much younger than my
father, and only half-sister, would
think L had made a mistake and got
switched of on n side track some
where"
Miss Abbie's face flushed and she
was on the point of making u confes.
sion of her poverty. stricken condition,
so far as blood relations were con-
cerned, but the delusion of fanoying
herself communing with some one
bound to her by ties of nature was
sweet and she hugged it to her heart
and let the mistake drift on for future
reparation.
"There are many things want to
know about my fathers family" he
said to her that evening, Sand you, of
course, are the one 1 look to to
straighten out the tangle of circum-
stances that has been vexing me for
several months. When are you ready
that each of us should turn biogra-
pher?"
"Not yet" she said, hastily. al
there are any unpleasant and unan-
swerable questions troubling you put
them aside and let things take their
own course for time. We will con.
slider them by-and-by."
"I bow to your superior judgment,
my dear aunt" he said, with mock
humility. "When. in your opinion,
the proper time has arrived, let me
know.
1t was two weeks before he broached
the subject again.
81 ought to go away to-myrrow or
the next day." he commenced abrupt
ly one evening, when they sat on the
steps watching John at work among
the rose bushes, "and before leave l
think it only just that you onlighten
me on the family history in general.
But perhaps ask that you will con-
slider it point of honor that 1 take
the initiative and tell you what know
of my father after his family lost sight
of him. 1 should have done this in
the beginning, but you will remember
that my attempts to lead up TO any
such a conversation were discouraged
by YOU"
He paused.
eyes" she murmured, "I remem-
member. Go on"
81 have but little to tell, and / shall
say that without any attempts at rhe-
torical embelishment. was born in
the far West. When was less than a
year old my father died. My mother
lived but a short time after that and
l was brought up-if bringing up you
could call it-by her people, who had
moved to Il neighboring town the year
before. From somebody, l presume
1t was my father, had inherited con-
siderable independence and ambition,
aud as soon as l was old enough
commenced to try to make for myself
way in the world. How far l have
succeeded you can perhaps be the best
and most impartial judge. 1t was
only within the last few years thut
have entertained any active interest
in my fathers family, One day l
asked an old woman who had been my
mothers nearest neighbor and closest
friend if she had ever heard either of
my parents say anything about his life
before he came West, and she told me
that just previous to his death lac had
spoken to my mother of Judge in
st. Louis to whom she could write if
she ever found it necessary or expe-