Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1897-08-19
Written for the REGISTER.
THE GREY DAWN.
BY ODETT TYLER.

As it was Sunday, John slept later
than on other days. 1t was quite an
hour before the bubbling water in the
can answered the leaping flame be-
meath. Out on the rude hearthstone
flashed a corresponding light, the glow
of burning wood.
Up and down the rough pine floor
promenaded John. Past the small
deal table, past the two narrow win
dows, the cupboard, the bookshelf, the
cabinet organ, until not square inch
was left uncovered. Finally he came
to a door which swung back as it was
softly pressed by his slender, girlish
fingers. The boy did not enter, but
stood motionless in the endeavor to
accustom his eyes, fresh from the glare
of the outer room, to the gloom within.
About him somehow was none Of
the ordinary boys omnifcent awk-
wardness. He was by no means the
hideous apology for what is to follow
that most boys are at his age.
His features were well cut, his cheeks
rounded, and Just now flushed from his
late contact with the fire His red
brown hair curled. His eyes were Of
a deep, soft blue. Added to this, his
mouth, though large, had lines of firm
ness and his lips a proud, sweet curve.
Shifting his weight softly from one
foot to the other, the boy continued to
gaze into the room. Presently his eyes
succeeded in meeting another pair of
eyes within.
There was an impatient grumble,
and the figure of a man sat erect, alert
amid the tumbled bedclothcs Of his
bunk. The boys mouth stretched It.
self into a laugh which showed his
teeth small and white, but just in front
overcrowded and uneven.
The man was only half appeased.
He shook his head, Its Sunday,
isn't it? You might have given me
another quarter of an hour Just if
teen minutes-long enough for anoth-
er snooze.'
Couldn't, Dad. Times up.
Waiting until he was fully persuad-
ed that the man had jumped to his
feet, he pushed to the door with loud
bang and proceeded with his original
occupation. Finding that the fire was
burning brightly, he went to get the
coffee that was on the shelf at the 9TH
er side Of the room. He made his
short journey whistling merrily, the
red mouth screwed into a round 80.
whats that tune?' called the man,
poking his head, glstening with water,
around the corner of the door.
81 dunno, hun. Picked it up at
Jacks"
The man frowned. Il wish you
wouldn't 90 down to Jacks. l don't
like the crowd. Don't go again with
out me. Or, better still, I'll get the
groceries after this
"All right, laughed the boy, wag-
ging his head with good-humored ac-
ouiescence. He was dragging out the
square table into the center Of the
room. He took down an old newspa-
per and spread it carefully over the
top for a tablecloth. From the shelf
he took down two cups and saucers,
two plates, two knives and forks "It's
Sunday, you know, he repeated in
sing-song whisper. Then in louder
tone, "Daddie =
Eyes"
"Tt's Sunday. Won know. Dress up
that yellow tie. You're beauty in
that !" His monotonous voice changed
into full deep tones of alteration.
Dad" was the one person on earth to
this boy. He was the handsomest,
smartest, the most perfect creature in
the world. Every look of admiration
called forth from the rough miners
among whom their lot was cast was
gloried in. Not one word of praise
escaped him. He treasured up every
smile that his companions witticisms
provoked. Their life was a hard one,
indeed, but the boy never uttered a
complaint, so long as he could indulge
dad"
While he was moving backwards
and forwards in front of the fire, turn
ing over the hot corn cakes with the
end of a long-handled knife, there
came to him the soft tread Of stock
inged feet crossing the floor.
"Tve got on the tie" said the man