Cañon City record., 1898-03-17
A FATHER AND MOTHER.
BY anpie Flint.


son River road. In the distance sound
cd 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; 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
al the others who drew together as if to
screen something that he must not see.
There was foggiRess in his head.
which made understanding difficult. of
course, Mitchell could take the switch;
it was Mitcbelrs time. He had feeling
that he would never be elear-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 il an instant,
while one hung back before the some
thing that he must not be allowed 10 see.
Their features worked and their voices
trembied 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 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
IL 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
10 him But now he'd cried aloud for
help. and his father'd had to hear him,
bad to see him diel 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 n wounded animal 10 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 diree-
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 il from its fathers eyes
Mitchell stayed behind on duty al the
switch. The air was full of the happy
twitter of birds. the hum of insects.
the distant rumble of wagon wheels
aud 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
suddenly other music burst upon their
ears. A woman's voice, round sand
comfortable. with a touch Of the brogue
in 1t. was singing cheerily:
''ohi whin VIII my lo-ove come ba-aek to
some bright summer day in the morning,
Some bright summer day In the mor-orn-
II was Hannah willet-Hannah GO
ing about her household duties. and,
perhaps. ready to step to the kitchen
porch and signal her man Jim and her
boy, as she usually did at the hour
when Mitchell or Dougherty took Will
let's place at the switch. II she came
on the porch now she would see them.
Dougherty. numbering along at Willets
heels, turned sick at the thought.
For the love O. the Lord. Connolly
bhoy." he whispered thiekly over his
shoulder. "run up to the house, will ye
an sthop the singin'. Do it widout
KILN her. She's got to have the news
broke before her heart is" sf
Connolly handed the dead child to
the man nearest him and nodded. Then
came a fresh burst of song, louder than
the first, clearer. nearer. which seemed
to swing down the hillside and strike
the men full across their faces:
"ohl wh,n will my lo-ove come back to
me7
Some bright"
The voice stopped. 1t neither broke
into shrek nor a moan. II simply
stopped short, as II ruthless fingers had
seized the poor singer by the throat and
held her. Hannah wil,s, stood on her
kitchen porch.
inere was uotnlNb -+Su nov
but to 60 on ard ys.e l best they
could. Thes lai % turn
and run, which ,tvi ~ say,
will have in a mur totn re dan
ger.
"The Iara is', ~ Guugh-
erty Arsi- ia g Fg aas new
TO hin Yen
not fvs-, = gch
wus ~
Co. stm
ard - rs -nk
a-.As tf - spo
ye
rcg tsl 40 his
hcs aisA q, - y. and
he nr cres u Aaaes
OUT; &ss .i'sruahi" he cried
brokenly; 'siipnrrl,'' 1t was the frs,
time he had spoken since tNe accident.
In p.tifui at,e,.-rt not 5 understand
the womaa Tiarsd ''aly n " one s ricf.
stricken face 10 nrpsher, AZ. The NSuth
ad happy good h, rr Of her own look
bletted out, FL ~ her glance me;
her husbands r~d rested there. Ths
terror of sppreA sion faded frog her
face. giving way before compassion
that was divine in lis self-forcctfulness
that transformed her from the plain