The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1897-08-26

1
that he did not answer at once, as a
grateful boy ought; but Mrs. Walsh
saw deeper than that. The lad wss
considering how he might answer
safely and trnthfully.
IF they'd let me be good. ma'am;
but they won't" he said, at length.
"Wil You try all you cant"
"Yes'm- I'll try all I can"
Mrs. Walsh gave the lad small
parcel of food in a paper, and patted
his curly head. The boy had not yet
shed tear since the pain of the
wound had been sssuaged. Some
might have thought he was not CRATE
full; but the little woman could see
the gratitude in the deeper light Of
the eye. The old crust was not brok
en- enough for tears.
Afterwards Mrs. Walsh told her
husband what she had done, and he
laughed at her.
"Do you think, Mary. that your
kindness can help that ragged waif"
Il do not think it will hurt Nun, 81
las"
1t was not the first time That Mrs.
Walsh had delivered answers to the
erudite doctor which had effectually
stopped discussion.
After that Jim came often to the
wash room door and was fed and he
became cleaner and more orderly
with each succeeding visit. At length
Mrs. Walsh was informed that
friend vas going sway into the far
western country to take up land, and
make frontier farm. The thought
occurred to her that this might be a
good opportunity for James Ammer-
ton. She saw her friend and brought
Jim to his notice, and the result was
that the boy went away with the emi
grant adventurer. And she heard
from her friend year later that he
liked the boy very much. Two years
later the emigrant wrote that Jim was
treasure. And Mrs. Walsh showed |
the letter to her husband; and he
smiled and kissed his little wife, and
said he was glad.
And he had another source of glad
ness. Upon her bosom his little wife
bore robust, healthy boy-their own
son-who gave promise of life and
happiness in the time to come.
The years sped on, and James Am
merton dropped out from the life that |
Mary Walsh knew. But there was
JOY and pride in the woman life
which held its place and grew and
strengthened. Her boy, whom they
called Phillip, entered college at the
age OF seventeen, and at the age Of
twenty one graduated with honor.
But the long and severe study had
taxed his system and be entered upon
the stage of manhood not quite so
strong in body as be should have
been. DIR. Walsh was not pecuniarily
able to send his son off on expensive !
travel, but he found opportunity for
his engagement on the staff of an ex-
ploriDg expedition, which would com
bine healthful recreation with al
equal healthful occupation.
The expedition was bound for the
western wilderness. Philip wrote
home often while on his way out, and |
he wrote after he had reached the
wilderness His accounts were glow
ing and his health was improving.
Three months of forest life and forest
labor. of which Philip wrote in a let.
ter that had to be borne more than a
hundred miles to the nearest post,
and then followed months of silence.
Where was Philip? Why did he not
write?
One day Dr. Walsh came home pale
and faint, with a newspaper crumpled
and crushed In his hand Not imme-
diaiely. but by and by, he was forced
to let his wife read what he had seen
in that paper. She read, and tainted
like one mortally stricken 1t was
paper from fan western city, and it |
told the sad fate of the exploring par
ty under Colonel Beauchampe. how
they had been attacked by al over
powerlng party of Ipdians, and how
those not massacred had been carried
away-captive.
Poor little woman! Poor DR.. Walsh.
But the mother suffered most. Her
head was bowed in binding agony,
and her heart was we'll nigh broken.
The JOY was gone ont of her life and |
thick darkness was round about her
And so passed half a year. One day
postman left letter at the door.
The hand of the subscription was ia
miliar. Mrs. " alsh glanced her eyes
over its contents. Oh. Joy! Oh. rap
tnre Her boy lived. and was well.
and was on his way home 10 her.
By and by. when the first great
surge had pass "a husband and wife
sat down and read the letter under
standingly
Il thank God, | found true
friend, or, | shonld say true friend
found me-" wrote Philip. after he had
told of his safety and of his where
abonts. But for the coming of this
friend l should have died ere this.
He spent thousands of dollars in en-
listing and equipping men for the
work, and with his own hand struck
down my savage captor and took me
thenceforth under his care and pro-
lection. God bless him! And be you
ready, both, to bless him, for be is
coming home with me-"
Upon their bended knees that night.
the rejoicing parents thanked God
for his goodness, and called down
blessings upon the head of the un-
known preserver Of their son.
And, in time, radiant and strong
their Philip came home ito them
came home bold and educated man.
fitted for the battle of life and pre-
pared to appreciate its blessings.
And with Philip came q man
OF middle age-a strong, frank faced.
handsome man, with gray eyes and
curling hair
"This," said the son. when he had
been released from his mothers rap
turous embrace, lis my preserver Do
you know himf
The doctor looked and shook his
head. He did not know.
But the little woman observd more
keen keenly. Upon her the light
broke on her overpoweringiy.