The Monitor-register., 1896-08-14
TONY.

AA"ho"S W LIS Wlie iolks III 1ndlaDa, anu
was glad to trade some of his travel-worn
stock for the necessaries of life.
remember very we'll the bright spring
day that father led her into the yard be-
fore the house. She looked all the
rougher by contrast with the fresh green :
ness of the shrubs and the trees in the
background.
How jaded and thin she looked as
father led her towards US She had not
shed her long dingy, coltish hair, her little
legs were covered with mud, and I don't
think she had ever been curried or
brushed in her life. Her forlorn coudi-
tion appealed to my heart, and when
father stopped her bef ore us, 1 began
stroking her soft, velvety nose. She gave
me look out of her brown eyes as if
she had been unaccustomed to such
kindly attentions.
"We'll give her free range of the south
pasture and an occasional bran mash, and
she'll come out surprisingly, said father.
"And now, Will and Ida, Pm going to
g i've her to you two for your own, if you
will take good care of her."
Of course we were much pleased over
our present, and made many promises to
treat her well, which, is only simple fair
ness to say, we kept faithfully. Never
was poor, neglected colt better treated
or had her needs more carefully looked
after. And she repaid us. too; for she
became very plump and pretty, and was
our devoted pet and friend.
One day, when Will and / were down
in the south pasture giving our ''partner
ship colt" vigorous rubbing, l with the
currycomb and he with the brush, father
came and looked over the bars.
"Weli," he said, smiling, "you're
pretty good hostlers, 1 see. Why, 1
declare she's getting quite tony"
And that is the how we happened to
call her "Tony." Somehow, Will and l
could not agree on name for our pet,
but when father used that term the suit
ableness of it seemed to strike us both at
the same moment. She was becoming
quite spirited and proud under our exer-
tions in her behalf.
The spring that Tony was three years
old was very wet one. So much rain fell
that farmers in that locality found it
impossible to pillow their fields and put in
their crops.
There was no school then in our dis
trict, and Will, who was now past four
teen, had great deal of leisure time.
So, with fathers permission he spent an
hour or two each day, when it was not
raining, in getting Tony used to the
saddle and breaking her to ride or drive.
One wet morning, Will came dashing
back from Glenville on Tony's back with
telegram from Grandpa Adams, who
lived on the State line adjoining Illinois.
The message was to mother, and read:
"Come at once. If you would see your
mother alive. JOHN ADAMS"
How short time and how few words
it takes sometimes to throw a happy
household into one of sorrow. Dear
Grandma Adams dying! 1t was such a
shock that l moved about the house as
one in dream, while my poor mother
was almost beside herself with
grIei. vi course, mother must start on
the next train, which would leave Glen.
Vile in two hours. Much as father dis
liked leaving us children alone, be
decided to accompany her. / was heart.
lily thankful for his resolve to do So
hecase mother was so broken down with
sorrow that she was unfit to travel alone.
By working faithfully we had every.
thing ready a good half hour before
train time. Will drove them to the
station, while Clyde and Claude, my twin
brothers, and | stood on the porch and
watched them out of sight.
With mothers parting words, "Do the
best you can till get bone, Ida," and
fathers Good bye! God keep you my
children" tried to feel very brave.
was about sixteen then, the oldest o.
the children. was to have sole charg.
of the household affairs, and Will of al
outdoor work. We could not preven
our minds from following father anG
mother on their sad journey, busy as oul
duties indoor and out kept us.
Considering that this was the frs
time we had ever been left alone NOR,
than day at time, we got along very
we'll. The neighbors came in to see N
and advised us kindly. Will was very
anxious to have it dry off enough so thai
he might begin plowing, and thus sur
prise father on his return. But on th
third Gay it began to rain a steady down
pour that made the ground almost
swamp and filled the ravines and strea ~
to oveiflowiDg. Prairie creek was turne,
into roaring torrent, and in place
where the banks were shallow its super
fiuous water swept out into the wood
and fields
The next day it was still raining
although not so heavily. Prairie creei
continued rising, and that day we hear
that two families, about five miles mort
of us had been obliged to abandon thei
houses on account of the water comip,
up so high.
| Despite the rain, Will put the saddl
on Tony's back and rode down to Glen
vile to see if there was not some wor
from our parents. When he returned h
handed me letter, which he had opene
and read first himself, knowing it wa
from father. Willis face prepared me 70
the sad news which the letter contained
Grandma Adams had only lived fey
hours after mother reached her; tn
funeral was over, and they would b
home the next night.
The next morning was still gray an
rainy; but we were all very busy maxim
everything as comfortable as we coulc
before the return of our parents.
could not help noticing that Will ha
an uneasy manner all that day, and, a
we sat down to an early supper befor
starting to the station, asked him wha
was the matter.
"Well, Ida, don't know exactly; bu
somehow | wish mother was not comm
tonight he answered.
"Why, Will Howardw | cried. How
can you say such thing when we ar
so anxious to see her and father ?''
"Well, don't like the things I hea
about the BRIDGE" he said. "They sa
it's not to be trusted y