The Advocate and news., 1898-06-29
BY LENoRE DosTER.
Continued from last weekly
CHAPTER XI.

When Tom had donned new clothes
he made visit to Fred and the Doyle
boys. He found Fred still at the office.
II wish 1 could go with you, old
fellow" he said. "Im tired of the Of
flee and the town. Goodbye"
One day in May Tom left the city and
sped across the fiat meadows of New
York on westward bound train. His
ticket read as far as Columbus, and he
sighed as he looked at it and realized
that he should have to walk the rest
of the way.
At Columbus he left the train and
started on his tramp to Kansas.
Sometimes a farmer gave him ride
in his wagon, for Tom didn't look like
a tramp but the time came when his
shoes were worn out and his coat looked
seedy. People became more suspicious
and treated him less Hospitality; for
it is the way of the world that it is
always ready to help boost the fellow
who has money or influence to get along
by himself, while it turns its back upon
those who really need help. You will
notice it is generally the man who can
afford to buy his ticket who rides on
pass, while the poor man has to pay
his way. It is a queer old world in
which we live. Wrong is often dressed
up to look right and you will find many
things in it upside down.
The more tramp-like Tom looked the
harder it was to get work, till one day
he found himself with empty pockets
and empty stomach and was compelled
to ask for food. This was very humili-
ating. His feet were sore, but he ar
gued with himself day or two before
he could bring his pride and conscience
down to the point OF stealing a ride on
a freight train; but necessity is almost
sure to conquer pride in the end, no
matter how self-respecting one may be.
He always offered to pay for his food
by working, but he was often treated in
a very un-Christianlike way in this
Christian land, and once even had the
dog set on him. He generally got "hand-
outs" of cold stuff poked at him through
the back door, but once in a while a
motherly woman gave him a warm meal
which tasted very good. He often
JuOu6uJ vi bu6 luOJluCJlOIlS d udu
given him-"Don't go to the fine lookin'
houses. Ye don't git 'straights' there.
Ye git more from poor folks every time.
They knows how it is to be down in
luck"
He was now in Indiana tramping
along the railroad toward the next
town, which he could see in the dis
tance. It was the town where his uncle
lived-his fathers brother whom he
had never seen-and he was debating
with himself whether he should hunt
him up. It was late. He had had no
breakfast
Not far from the road was a white
farm house among the trees.
'I'll try here" he thought, and went
up the path. The house was larger than
it at first seemed, and it appeared as
though the people were well off. The
place was so quiet and severely neat
that it looked inhospitable. He feared
he had made mistake and was about
to turn when a woman opened the door
and asked him what he wanted
Gould you give me something to eat
and let me pay for it in work?"
"No, I couldn't Besides we don't
work here on Sunday" and she shut
the door
AS he walked around the house on his
way out he heard her say, Zone can't
have time for proper Sabbath medita-
tions, for the interruptions of these beg
gars. I'm tired of it. I never have and
I won't make a business of feeding
tramps" Then the same voice called
out of the window in an irritated tone,
George! for goodness sake! haven't