Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1898-09-29


eyes wos wide open, lookin up'ards
at the stars"
THE Love Child!"
That's it! You've seed the picture,
too?"
Often" quietly; "it's copied quite
a deal"
His hand was growing careless; ii
swerved and the brush slipped. The
girl cri out; there was laub
across the canvas.
There now" regretfully you've
made smudge acrost yer name. It
looks like | was paddin' in a puddle
o green paint!'
The artist did not answer,
I'm glad O. enc thing, though"
more cheerfuly; them boots are hid.
| amt stickin' my toes out for the
birds TO roost on"
Still he did not answer. His ST.
lence and abstraction were taken as
dismissals. She hitched up her bun
die, wishing him Good day."
No; wait a bit, He got up for
the first time, and came and stood be-
fore her. Wont you shake hands
before you 90, my-my dear?'
Bewildered but gratitled, she gave
him hers at once. 1t was rough and
sunburned and perhaps not over
clean, yet there was curiou, resem-
blance between the tramp's hand and
his own. He dropped 1t hurriedly.
How old are you, my child'"
Eighteen, come Christmas.
His eyes We're on her face; they
studied It intently.
"Ah-h!" he said, and dropped few
steps back We'll, good bye. Good
luck, God bless youl"
Her eyes filled with tears.
What are you crying for!i
AT you. You spoke SO kind; you
made me think o. mother.
A hint for your future guidance.
His voice was hard again. Never
trust a man because he appears kind
They're mostly dangerous, and often
the worst sort, D."
The change in his tone depressed
her.
"CAes 'nutsi" she sighed forlornly;
pore mother told me that"
His glance fell to earth, pink
tipped daisy was peeping above tho
grass; he ground It into the sod with
the toe of his heavy boot,
Goodbye, again"
She took his proffered hand.
Stop that, for Gods sake, can't
bear to see woman cry.
Stop 1t she couldn't, but she crooked
her arm and held 1t before her face,
'I.ife's so ard she moaned; "peo-
Pile is such 'ogs, an Of! I'm so lonely
since my poor mother died."
He stood beside her, listening to her
sobs
MY dear" he said at last, we arc
all lonely--you on the high road, | in
the cities. pore mother in her grave"
He paused, laying a hand on the
girls heavng shoulder. Loneliness
is the common lot, we carry IL hid
den In our souls through life; even
in crowds II cries ont ceaselessly
above the din We can make q noise
to drown t, we can bury 1t deep
down, we can call our friends to-
gcther and smoke and drink upon It's
tomb-it will creep out in the night
time. when the others are all gone,
and, climbing onto our pillows, sit
and jabber to us in the dark. But
life has to be lived through" throw
ing back his head: Its prizes fought
for, squabbled over, and errors | sup
pose must be committed, by the way.
The preachers tell US that sin comes
to us; so 1t does, but II Isn't to the
sinner There's a truth 80 brutal 1t
might almost keep one good. The
man who sees life isn't asked to
acted, but it's the innocent who pay"
The tramp's tears were dried; she
was lost in admiring wonder.
I'm n hoary old sinner" he added.
with a curiously gentle smile but
take my advice, my dear the advice
OF a man who might almost be your
father; go on being respectable. stay
innocent-k5ep good"
He patted her shoulder, then gave
it a gentle push And 50 they parted.
He watched her tramping down the
long white road
Cor found her eyes" he muttered;
that's why they haunted mel"
She trudged on with her bundle
His eyes followed almost yearningly.
She rounded a bend. The tramp
looked back.
LII" he murmured half uncon-
sciously; poor, pretty. olish Lz!"
Ills own voice reused him He
smiled into v~ancy. THAT was the
namel thought ? hid forgotttn.'
The road turned She disappeared
from view 7iG
He whistled frowned and fnally
brugged his shoulders.
III she'd only been lady" pres
entity. He was staring at the canvas.
Bah! What nonsense, A tramp
Her mothers child"
He fell on one knee and began
aaL liza h,k hia FYa,