Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1898-08-04

ability-no! not the probability, the possi-
bility-of a release from her present In
tolerable bondage.
Her lodgings are situated long way
from the theater. somewhere In the back
streets of the city; but how can three
people live decently on couple CT pounds
q week? 1t is half an hour or more before
Della Moray reaches the dingy old house
in which she and her husband live, IN com
pany with half dozen other families as
poor as themselves.
The door is opened to her by her land
lady, battered old woman. who reJolces
in a wig Of disheveled curls-a legacy,
probably, left her by some of her theatre
cal dodgers in exchange for rent-sur-
mounted by black cap adorned with eV-
cry sort Of dirty artificial flower, but who
keeps kind heart in her bosom, never
theless, and is particularly interested IN
Della, whom she constantly declares she
will not see put upon"
The mother is in a hurry to see her boy.
She runs up one, two, three flights of
stairs and quickly enters dingy sitting
room. There is a strong smell of beer
and tobacco pervading the place; but it is
empty and the fire has burned down in
the crate.
Della turns into the bedroom. All is IN
darkness. She makes her way up to the
bed, and lays her cheek down upon the
pillow. The bed is vacant-no one is
there! Then a sudden fear attacks her.
What has become of her child! She
rushes out upon the landing, and calls to
~, 1o% how IN or front
door:
"Mrs. Timson! Mrs. Timson! Where is
my Willy? Who has taken my boy away
Speak to me; tell me where he is gone to
for the love of heaven!'
The woman in the brown curls and ar
tifcial flowers comes imping up the
stairs.
"Lor' bless you, Mrs. Moray! you're no
call to be in such a stew. l would have
told you where he was at first, If you
'adnt run past me like whirlwind. The
boys only gone out with his pa"
with Mr.. Moray, and at this time Of
the night! Wherever can they have
gomez"
''17hat can't tell you. All l know is
that was just going to slip off the child's
things and put him to bed, when your
husband called to me to put on his at and
comforter, as he was going to take him
along of him. said it wasn't fit weather
to take the boy out, with his cough, too;
but all got for my pains was to be told
to mind my own business. The other
gentleman was here, too, and went out
with Them
"What! Mr.. William Moray, his broth
err"
''To be sure. They left about seven,
and 'aven't been back since. When
card your knock I 'oped it was them; for
I knew you'd worry terrible to come home
and find Willy gone"
ooh, Mrs. Timson! it will kill HMM
this dreadful weather. sobs Della.
Don't go to talk such nonsense, ma'am.
The boy won't take no arm, though he
was coughing terrible, to be sure. as let
'em out. The gentleman seemed in high
feather, though. Perhaps your husband
'ad some good news-eard of an appoint
ment, maybe, or something of that sort
and it'll turn out all for the best; so don't
you take on like that now"
"Oh, will he ever come back, Mrs. Tim
son-will he ever come back? Surely
something dreadful must have happened
to them! Mr.. Moray is taken ill, or Willy
has been run over by cab! What else
should keep them so late? I am fright
ened out of my life waiting for them in
this horrible suspense"
Nonsense, my dear" returns the land
lady practically "You know your good
gentleman's 'abits we'll enough. It's much
more likely he's been bit overtaken by
liquor, and can't find his way 'ome. But,
bless my soul, ere they are!'
And here, sure enough, they must be
or at all events, somebody must be-for
the knocker on the hall door commences
to sound and continues to sound as Wig
orously as it can, until every lodger in the
house is Weakened from his slumbers.
Della flies downstairs to open the door,
while Mrs. Timson imps after her, growl-
ing audibly at the unnecessary commotion
made by the returning party.
GAS if it wasn't enough to keep honest
folk out Of their beds till the small hours
of the morning, but what e must come
'ome with row enough for the Prince of
Wales ITSELF"
But Mrs. Moray heeds nothing but the
fact that her child is close at hand. She
undoes the fastenings of the door with
trembling eagerness, and filings it open.
On the threshold stand three figures. She
sees but one; and sinking down upon her
knees, clasps the fragile little boy in her
arms.
Get out Of the way, will you?" ex-
claims the suffering, drunken voice of
her husband. ''What do you mean by
blocking up the door in this fashion?
Don't you see we want to come in p
Go be continued)