The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1898-03-22
A FATHER AND MOTHER.
BY anDie Flint.
aa'qsp'asps'EasRsHasRaApsgNvRNs,Aaa,Rs'ESS
THE sun-a July sun, blazing hot

THE sun--a July sun, blazing hot
beat down upon the river and shone
vertically along the palisades, throwing
its binding glare over the hills of the
east shore and on the rails of the Hud
son River road. In the distance sound
ed the whistle of train that had just
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; dc
you understand? It's my time now.
That's all right, old Teller; 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 a fogginess in his head,
which made understanding difficult. OF
course, Mitchell could take the switch !;
1t was Mitchelrs time. He had feeling
that he would never be clear-headed
again, never be worth anything 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
few rods off, they, too, had heard the
boys cry, had seen his struggle in the
water. Run as they would, they had
not been in time to save him. Then
they broke down utterly and sobbed,
and the fog lifted somewhat from Will
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. lie had
The instinct of a wounded animal to 90
home. On the brow of the hill above
stood his neat frame cottage with a 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-
ton of the road; he and the boy always
vent by the path.
With 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 ewes.
Mitchell stayed behind on duty at the
witch. The air was full of the happy
witter of birds, the hum of insects.
he distant rumble of wagon wheels
nd the lazy padding of river craft,
which make up the thousand and one
ounds along the Hudson in summer
ime. The sad little procession had
one two-thirds of their way, when
uddenly other music burst upon their
airs. A woman's voice, round and |
omfortable, with touch of the brorue
it, was singing cheerily:
Oh! whin will my lo-ove come ba-ack to
me? ~ ~
ONE bright summer day in the morning.
ONE bright summer day In the mor-orn-
1t was Hannah Willet-Hannah 90
1g about her household duties, and.
erhaps, ready to step to the kitchen
orch and signal her man Jim and her
oy, as she usually did at the hour
hen Mitchell or Dougherty took VIII
rs place at the switch. If she came
the porch now she would see them.
ougherty, numbering along at Willet's
cells, turned sick at the thought.
For the love o. the Lord, Connolly
10Y" he whispered thick,y over his
louder, run up to the house, will We
I sthop the singin'. Do it widout
Hin her. She's got to have the news {
'oke before her heart isl
Connolly handed the dead child N I
e man nearest him and nodded. Then
me fresh burst of song, louder than c
e nrst, clearer, nearer, which seemed
swing down the hillside and strike
e men full across their faces:
me? -e oach &c
me bright" I
The voice stopped. It neither broke
10 shrek nor moan. 1t simply ,
opped short, as If ruthless fingers had ,
yea the poor singer by the throat and :
ia her. Hannah Willet stood on her ,
tchen porch. !
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