Spirit of Jefferson. [volume] (Charles Town, Va. [W. Va.]) 1844-1948, 1898-12-13

had been such long time since she had
seen him. So she embraced him instead
Then he gave her such good reasons
for his return. He hated the country
where he had been. It grieved him to
be SO far away from home, and his COM
rades called him Prussian because of
his Alsatian accent. He told her all
this, and she believed it. She only had
to look at him to believe anything.
Talking inoessantly, they entered the
house.
The youngsters awoke and ran in in
their nightgowns, barefooted, to em-
brace their big brother. They wanted
him to eat something, but he was not
hungry, only thirsty-oh, SO thirsty
So he drank pints of water in place of
the wine and beer towhioh he had been
treating himself all day at the inn.
A step was heard in the court. Alas,
it was the blacksmith returningl
Christian, there is your father.
Hide yourself quickly until have time
to speak to him to explain ALL" cried
the mother, pushing her son behind the
great earthenware stove, while she start
ed to sewing once moro with trembling
fingers. Unfortunately tho zouave's cap
rested on chair, and it was the first
thing Lory saw when he entered. This,
then, explained his wife's pallor, her
embarrassment He understood it all.
"Christian is here p' he cried furious
ly, and, taking down his saber, with a
gesture of rage rushed behind the stove,
where the zouave, pale and sobered,
was crouching, leaning against the wall
for fear of falling.
The mother threw herself between
them.
"Lory, Lory, do not kill himp' she
cried. ''It was who wrote him to re-
turn = that you needed him at the
forge"
She clung to her husbands arm, and,
sobbing, dragged him back, and in their
room the weeping children could hear
their parents voioes-one full of tears,
the other of anger, SO changed that they
could hardly recognize them.
The blacksmith stood still moment
and looked at his wife.
'Ah, it was you, was it, that made
him return? Very we'll. He may go to
bed. 1 shall see what l will do in the
morning"
The next day Christian awoke after
sleep full of nightmare and terror to find
himself in thereon where he had slept
when child. Across the little lead
framed panes grew hop vine in flow
er, and the sun was already high in the
heavens. Below the hammers sounded
on the anvil.
His mother was at his bedside. She
had not left him during the night be-
cause she feared her husbands rage
might return. Her husband also had
not sought his couch; for until it was
dawn he had walked about the house,
weeping, signing, opening and shutting
the drawers of the presses, and now
that it was day had quietly entered his
sons room, dressed as for journey,
with high CATERS, large hat and car
rying an iron ferruled mountaineer' g
staff. He came up to the bed, saying
only, Sect upl''
The boy, trifle confused, started to
put on his zouaye uniform.
"Not that, :" said his father sternly.
But he has no others, - his mother
interposed.
GIVE him mine, then. shall not
need them any more
While his son was dressing, Lory
carefully folded the uniform, and, MAX
ing a package of it, hung it by it's strap
over the end of his stick.
''Now come down stairs, - he said at
last, and the three went down to the
forge without speaking. The bellows
roared, the men were at work. The
sight of the open shed door reminded
the zouave of his childhood, how he had
played there SO long between the warm
road and the door where the sparks of
the forge shone in the black coal dust.
A feeling Of tenderness came over him,
a desire to have his fathers pardon, but
when he lifted his eyes he encountered
an inexorable glance. AT last the black
smith spoke:
"My SON., said he, "here are the
anvil and the tools; all are yours. And
all this, too, . added he, pointing to the
little garden. full of the sunlight, and
the humming of bees, framed in the be-
smoked doorway. 1.-The hives, thevines,
the house, all belong to you. AS you
have sacrificed your honor for these
things it is only right that you should
take care of them. You are master over
all here. AS for me, am going away.
You owe five years to France, and am
going to pay them for you"
'tLory, Lory, where are you going?'
cried his poor wife.
What