The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1896-02-12
Her Boy.

Miss Boughton wes leaning against
the shelves of little, low.ceilinged,
crowded, secondhand book-shop in
Broadway, just above Thirty sixth
street, dipping into volume of M.
Ampere.
"Will you please do that up for mel"
she said, holding it out. As she ex-
tended her arm, her large sleeve hap
pened to brush open the cover of one
of those soft, leather-cover. covered,
old fashioned Bibles, lying on a pile of
school.books, and her eye caught the
delicate faded traceries Of an inscrip-
ton on the yellow fy.leaf-" To my
darling boy, from his loving mother"
"Oh!" she said, with panied start;
chow could any one I'll take that
too, please" and she closed the cover
quickly, reverently. 1t seemed to her
so shocking, 80 cruelty, needlessly, cold
hearted, in any one to sell such gift,
to throw away such token Of mother
love. The quaint, fine, faded hand
writing called up hundred fancies of
home and childhood and fondling care
and starlit pleadings beside little beds.
Who was the mother who prayed? and
where was the boy who wandered and
forgot? she wondered. Or. kinder
thought, perhaps he was dead too, and
the book that he had wept over and
found comfort in had fallen into care
less strangers hands, and made its way
at last to the old book-shop, along with
dog-eared Latin grammars and stray
magazines. She was glad at least that
it had come to one who would preserve
and cherish it as something most sweet
and beautiful and pathetic.
The autumn shower which had
driven her into this little exchange for
rusty literature had now broken away,
and watery ray of sunshine came
struggling in at the door, resting on the
bent gray figure of the proprietor tying
her bundle, and on another person whom
she had not observed, and who was
lounging against one of the cases op-
posite her, lingering the pages of an old
picture-book, and regarding her with
a peculiarly eager, covert gaze. He
was broken-down man of perhaps
forty, dressed in short frock-coat,
we'll buttoned up, that a too intimate
acquaintance with rain and weather
had turned to a peculiar green color,
and from out which his long lean arms
and neck protruded TO an extraordinary
length. He was a type easy enough to
classify-a type one often sees in public
libraries and round old book stalls, re-
fined and poor and i'll and dissipated.
Yet there was something 80 pathetic in
his pale, weak, intellectual face, some
thing 80 appealing aud intense in the
look of his large, bright brown eyes,
which for an instant caught hers over
his hollow hectic cheeks, that Miss
Boughton had a sense of nearness and
sympathy for this dingy memory of
what was once perhaps kind and hon,
est gentleman. She of course turned
away her eyes politely, but instead of
taking her package, she said: ooh,
by-the-bye, l have just happened to
think that I've got to go TO lunch with
some people. Would you mind send
ing these books home for mep It's
only step. live in Thirty eighth
street" AS she gave the number, she
thought she saw the other listening,
with his body bent over the pages, and
his long lean finger pressed against his
thin chin. She hoped he wasn't going
TO come and beg. Somehow she
couldn't help believing him to be a
gentleman She would be so glad 10
help him, but she didn't want him to
spoil himself.
Miss Boughton threw NJ Ampere
carelessly on the table on her return
that afternoon, and took up the worn
old Bible with certain indignant pity
Perhaps there might be some further
biographical details. She turned the
pages dreamily, idly, in kind of sac
pleasure, when suddenly she came
upon a verse enclosed in broad circle
of ink; and it was this: II bowed
down heavily as one who mourneth fol-
his mother." She closed the book very
gently. There we're tears in her eyes
"Ab, he didn't forget" she murmured
One snowy winter morning, some
two months subsequent to this littl,
episode, her maid brought her note
with the message that an answer wa
requested. 1t was addressed in large
shaky, masculine hand, and quick,
opening it, she read: "Some wv,
months ago, you may remember buy
ing Bible in the old book store jus
round the corner from Thirty-sixt
street. The book was mine. When
tell you that it was my dear mother
Sgift, that she wrote my name there
and that it was my one memento OF
happy past, you will understand how
value it. / sold it because | had ha
nothing to eat for three days. aske
her if she'd mind, don't you know, an
she seemed to tell me to. But / wen
there and watched il till | could get
back again, and then you came an,
bought it, knew by your face VIII
you did. God bless you for it! | liz
tened for your address. hoped eac
day TO come and buy it. Pm dyin
now, they tell me, so can never repa
Won. but would YOU mind sending ii I