The daily morning journal and courier., 1898-07-29

the door and Kit had gone out, Addi- son raced back and stood by his grand fathers chair whispering breathlesslN will you let me see some of the books some day-wiYout Kit?" There was q passionate eagerness in the question which startled Gaffer. He looked down at the lmploring, upturned face And then "a strange thing happened"
 It was no longer Addison, his name l sake, that he saw: It was himself Himself of sixty years ago. There he stood, the quaint, serious-eyed boy, whose portrait hung in his dead wife's | dressing-room. The boy who longed for books, and who had asked the same question of q scholar in an Oxford li-
 brary. on q forgotten morning all those years ago. With a sudden rush of gratitude he remembered how the | question had been answered, and though his smile was very pleasant, his voice was trifle husky as he said: "Assuredly!"
 "Wivout Kit?" consistently ques- toned the little boy.
 Without Kit, promise" repeated ] Gaffer Then he and Addison shook hands, and Addison followed Kit. She was waiting in the hall. What
 did you say to Gaffer?" she asked in- quisitively, but Addison shook his head.
 He could keep his own counsel even
 when coerced by pinches.
 At luncheon Gaffer inquired, "Addi- son, can you read?"
 Not well!" answered Kit "He can't
 read well; he's only doing sequel and he's six. He's very backward!" T asked Addison, my dear" said
 Gaffer, in gently reproving tones. Addison blushed and held down his head; then he said T don't like what
 read; it's so uninteresting. They ask
 such silly questions, over and over again."
 He knows heaps of poetry!" said Kit | magnanimously. He can learn any, thing when he's heard it once, and he knows pages of verses, and Psalms, and that, but he's no good on horse back He's got no nerve. Dad says
 he'll never be any good across country! And he's afraid of the dark" Are you not nervous?" asked Gaf-' fer.
 Me nervous!' said Kit with great scorn. T can ride Dads chargers!" ''Ah, you're like your mother," said
 Gaffer smiling at her. Now I, was
 never any good across country; but yet
 I haven't found that it has alienated | my friends, or done me any great dam
 age in life. Has Addison begun Latin?"
 "Oh, no; Miss Mercer doesn't teach
 Latin, and he's far too backward in
 other things to begin.''
 T began Greek when I was his age" said Gaffer dreamily: "but there's no reason why Addison should not begin | Latin. He shall begin it with me-" | Addison flushed up to the roots of
 his hair; then he scrambled off his seat l "a most unheard-of proceeding in the
 middle of luncheon-and ran round to I his grandfather. He threw himself I how love you!''
 Kit regarded him with astonished 1 eyes. That Addison, who never kissed l anybody but mother who was so un-
 demonstrative, so slow to show feeling, | should behave in this extraordinary | manner, because he was told he might | have Latin lessons, was to her incom- | prehensble; and Gaffer seemed to ap- prove, for he lifted Addison on his knee, and said in such queer voice; 1T | think we're rather of kidney, you and I; we're going to understand each oth-
 CT uncommonly we'll" and Addison sat l enthroned on Callers knee all the rest l of luncheon, and shared his cheese | Kit felt injured.
 | When Gaffer went back to his study | he sat down before the fire. and he pondered for long time over his queer
 little grandson. Then he gave his
 shoulders a shake and sighed, q was a l disappointment to my father, and he'll l be a disappointment-he is disap- l pointment-poor little chap, to his. He
 is unaccountably like me"
 1 A lonely child was Addison. The fact that he was always called Addison ! from the time 1''~ ceased to be baby was i proof enough. A child who is under stood gets a nickname Kit had fifty. | Addison was always called by his bap- l tismal name. It was Callers name, and Gaffers grandfather had been l called after gentleman who wrote po- | etry and things. Little Addison knew | that much, and he wondered if the l writings of that far-away MT. Addison
 were more interesting than "Step by 1 step" Addison was called an "old- I fashioned child" he was not very sure | precisely what that was, but that it
 was something a child ought not to be he was convinced. Kit was pretty very pretty; so the officers said, not in | frequently to Kit herself. Kit was nev- CT afraid of anything by day or by night. Kit always spoke the truth;
 Addison had been known to prevaricate when he was frightened, and he was off, l ten frfghtened-at nothing at all, Kit said
 | But the worst and most unforgivable thing about Addison was this: he had l no wish to be a soldier-and said so | The sound of a popgun caused hisheart l to thump against his breast in an un- ] pleasantly violent manner, and a re- | view was to him prolonged agony that made him i'll for days.
 His mother-whom he worshipped. and who loved him tenderly-was quite | unconscious of his many sufferings | She was absolutely devoid of nerves | herself, and thought that Addison l would grow out of his "delicacy," as | she called it. She was proud of his re- | markable resemblance to her father.
 whom she admired above all mortal men-but she was disappointed; and 1 poor Addison, with the quick intuition