The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1895-10-30


Wade, what right have you to touch
herr Come away, Elsie, dear, the
ugly old man will hurt you" With
these words Miss Harriet, the young.
er of the daughters, led away the
child, and Parson Wade was once
more alone. The look of abhorrence
and terror that stole over the child's
face cut deep into the old mans
heart as, his daughters cruel words
failed to do. A slight moan escaped
his lips, but dreading a fresh rebuke
he choked back a rising sob and hob,
bled away into the darkness of his
own room.
Half an hour later the little house
hold gathered at the tea table. Miss
Wade, tall and stately, presided with
cold dignity, and opposite her sat
Miss Harriet, with little Elsie, the
daughter Of near neighbor, who
had left the child with the Wade
women for the afternoon. The par,
son took his seat, and reverently bow
ing his head moved his lips in a mur-
INJURED prayer of thanks. Instantly
his daughters began a clatter Of sill,
yer and China, while in needlessly
loud tones they began to talk gayly
on some amusing and trifing sub,
iect. This was disciplinary meas
ure in their eyes. 1--WE must break
him Of this absurd habit, " they said
to each other in talking the matter
over. "Come, you've mumbled long
enough" cried Miss Harriet. 'The
toast.is getting cool"
Little Elsie eyed the old man fur
lively during the opening of the
meal and fdgeted uneasily in her
chair. She was a timid child, and
Miss Wade's remark fingered in her
memory.
'Will he hurt me nowI" she whis-
pered to Miss Harriet after some
minutes.
"Why, you poor child! Does he
frighten you2 You'd better take
your plate and cup into the kitchen,
father. I don't wonder the child is
frightened You really are uncanny
tonight y
So Parson Wade was vanished to
the kitchen, there to eat his bread
and drink his weak tea alone. He
longed for a bit of meat for his sup
per and a little cream and sugar for
his tea. Once, months before, he
had made bold to reach for the milk
pitcher, but was stopped by the
words, 'sDo you link we can afford
to supply you with luxuries-you
who do not earn clear tea evenl"
After that he did not offend in this
way again, but tonight he watched
with almost feeling Of envy the
sleek, well fed cat as she Tapped her
brimming saucer of creamy milk.
Lucky cat! There was always enough
food for her.
On his way up stairs awhile later
Parson Wade passed the parlor door
and paused a moment to look in.
The fire was burning eheerily in the
CRATE, there was a cushioned chair
before it, and on the table by the big
lighted lamp was the evening paper.
The old man hesitated. He was never
allowed in that room, he knew, but
the girls, he remembered, had gone
to take Elsie home, several doors
away. And that paper, he was sure,
had a long report of the conference
held the day before in neighboring
city. The temptation was irresist-
ible. He sat down in the big easy
chair and began to read. Thisweary
old Christian veteran, his years Of
active service ended, yearned for
news of the thousands of soldiers in
the thick of the fight, and rarely did
a paper or magazine enter his hands.
That the work he so loved was still
going on he felt sure, but in his mar
row, cramped Life he longed for de-
tailed tidings of the progress of the
church
With gistening eyes he read, for
getting his own sorrows. Half an
hour had passed when a hand drew
the paper from his grasp, and his
eldest daughters cold voice said,
"You forget that this room is not in
tended for your use." Miss Wade
was never so abusive in her language
as her hot tempered sister, but her
icy, sarcastic words were often quite
as cutting. But tonight her father
scarcely heard the words. He rose
mechanically, and with feeble step
climbed the stairs to his chamber.
There ia the bare, desolate room,
with its bit Of faded carpet and its
scanty furnishings, shut out from the
CHEEKY little parlor with its fire, pia-
no, books and cushioned chairs, the
old man spent the long evenings In
dreary loneliness.
There he toiled over his spiritless
sermons, trying out of his meager,
barren life to find something that
might bring encouragement and COM
fort to some struggling soul. When
the oil gave out in the little lamp,
and the light grew dim, he would
close his books with a sigh and gath
er his papers together, and often as
the sound of music and laughter
foated upward from the parlor be-
low the lonely old man on his knees
spent the remainder of the evening,
and indeed much of the night, in
agonized pleading for release, for
help. Tonight his only wish, his
one plea; was FOR death, and with
tears falling from his eyes he begged
piteously that his Father in heaven
would take him. to himself.
Sleep, however, brought uncon-