Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1898-02-12
A FATHER AND MOTHER.
BY Hnpie Flint.
'NVV'VVHPaVh'seagVVs

! LIZ Sun-u July sun, DlaZlnR hot
beat down upon the river and shont
vertically along the palisades, throwinl
its binding glare over the hills of tn,
east shore and on 'ttre rails of the Hutl
son River road. In the distance sound
ed the whistle of train that had lust
passed. The man at the switch lifted
his head to listen. One of the group by
the rivers edge came forward hastily
Look a-here, Willet, what did YOU
go back there for? That train amt
comm this way. You're off duty; do
| you understand? It's my time now.
That's all right, old feller; gimme here"
Tears streamed down the speakers
face. The man at the switch turned
to him inquiringly, then stared beyond
at the others who drew together as if to
screen something that he must not see.
There was n fogginess in his head,
which made understanding difficult. OF
course, Mitchell could take the switch:
1t was Mitchell's time. He had feeling
that he would never be clear-headed
again, never be worth any thing more to
the road. He took an unsteady step in
the direction of the men, and two of
them sprang to his side in an instant,
while one hung back before the some
thing that he must not be allowed to see.
Their features worked and their voices
trembled in explaining how, at the little
railway station and at the boathouse a
few rods of, they, too, had heard the
boys cry, had seen his struggle in the
water Run rs they would, they had
not been in time to save him. Then
they broke down utterly and sobbed,
and the fog lifted somewhat from Viii
let's brain so that he could hear their
voices, while his hand was wrung Wig
orously many times. The fog shut down
again, and he was puzzled. What was
1t they kept saying had happened?
What had they tried to do? Day in and
day out the boy had ducked and
splashed in the few feet of water near
the bridge where his father had his
post. There'd never any harm come
to him. But now he'd cried aloud for
help, and his father'd had to hear him,
had to see him die! The horror of the
thing, the terrible shock to the mans
nervous system, isolated him for the
time being from any appreciation of
human sympathy. He attempted to
walk and staggered, shivering under
the intense heat of the sun. He had
the instinct of a wounded animal to go
home. On the brow of the hill above
stood his neat frame cottage with path
roughly worn between the bridge and
his own door. The high road, much
the longer way, wound leisurely down
the hill. Willet shambled in the direc-
tion of the road; he and the boy always
went by the path.
With a sensation of the greatest re-
lief. the men followed, one carrying the
little drowned body, and two others so
moving that they could still manage to
shield it from its fathers eyes.
Mitchell stayed behind on duty at the |
switch. The mir was full of the happy |
twitter of birds, the hum of insects, |
the distant rumble Of wagon wheels |
and the lazy padding of river craft.
which make up the thousand and one
sounds along the Hudson IN summer
time. The sad little procession had
gone two-thirds of their way, when
other music burst upon their
ears. a woman's voice, round and
with touch of the brogue
in it. was singing eheerily:
'Oh! Uhin will my lo-ove come ba-ack to
Some bright summer day in the morning,
Some bright summer day in the mOr-orn-
1t Vas Hannah Winet-Hannah 60
ing about her household duties, and.
perhaps, ready to step to the kitchen
porch and signal her man Jim and her
boy, rs she usually did at the hour
wen Mitchell or Dougherty took Will
let's place at the switch. If she came
IN The porch now she would see them.
Eongherty, numbering along at Willet's
leels. turned sick at the thought.
For the love o. the Lord, Connolly
Ihoy." he whispered thickly over hts
shoulder, "run up to the house, will ye
IN sthop the singin'. Do it widout
tillin' her. She's got TO have the news
broke before her heart is"
Connolly handed the dead child to
he man nearest him and nodded. Then
'ame fresh burst of song, louder than
he first. clearer. nearer, which seemed
o swing down the hillside and strike
he men full across their faces:
oh! whin will my lo-ove come back to
me?
Some bright
The voice stopped. It neither broke
nto n shrek nor n moan. 1t simply
stopped short, us il ruthless fingers had
'cized the poor singer by the throat and
'eld her. Hannah Willet stood on her
iltchen porch.