The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1898-03-06

Yes. maybe. It's always happened
that I've had 10 say TO myself. Now.
Peter, no work no dinner 50 i was al
ways thinking about getting about again:
bat IL 'tisn' Ike that with you, that may
account for the lie-a-bed feelin. But
you mGstn' get out OF heart, Thomas,
nobody can spare you yet awhile. you
muslin go before me, you know; couldn't
bear it."
Thomas pondered awhile and then said
slowly. Il dunno"
mo, no, Thomas: good tradesman. hon.
est citizen, generous man. and my dear
old friend. We can't spare such a man in
his first chill. 1 can't spare you, Thomas;
such as you must live a bit longer"
But Thomas. still bordering, repeated,
'.T dunno"
There was a pause OF some moments
while Peter sat on a Louis Quinze chair
and felt sorry. and Thomas lay with his
wide eyes fixed on the little flames of the
oil lamp.
Thomas also reused himself. '.No,
thank We, except" he added fippantly.
half earnestly, remember me when you
say your prayers"
Il always do that" rejoined Peter.
simply.
After Peter had gone Thomas lay and
suffered without sign or sound; he was
feeling tho extremity OF individuality.
He had pains. and he must endure them:
no one could bear them for him. however
much they might love him; not all his
boards of wealth could hire him a substi-
tute. He was himself. Thomas Pritchett:
and whatever agony came, he must go
through TO the end. This thought
blanched his lips and brought a look of
terror to his eyes: and then his mind
wandered on TO thought of Peter. and
Peters faith In him-Thomas Pritchett
and his God. Peter loved him. Peter
would bear his pain for him If he could,
for Peter believed In him, he believed him
10 be generous and honest in his deal
ings. and a man to be respected and adj
mlred. Other people had said hard things
of him; the Bristol people had scorned
ana derided him when he had refused
help TO his own old father and mother
until forced by the home parish to pro-
vide for theic necessity. but Peter had
never heard of that; Peter believed in
him--and In his God. That tattered old
crossing sweeper knelt every night to say
his prayers. the same simple creature he
had ever been. Thomas lay and pom
dered these things in his heart, motion
less for nearly an hour while the pain
throbbed In his bones and the fever
scorched his fiesh and then he rose slow
ly from his bed and knelt or the cold
foor by the side Of 1t. the pain bringing
the Precipitation In big drops on his brow
as he did IL.
He wanted to pray. he wanted TO say
something to his Maker: but his boyhood
seemed so far off, he could not remember
the old words. For full ten minutes he
kneit there in the cold. and then he looked
NJ towards the bulgins ceiling and said
Lord God"
But as his eyes Travelled down again a
huttering moth came between him and
p ID ill
the temptation was strong to rise from
before his Makers throne and kin this
wretched destroyer of his treasures He
half rose; he glared at Il: he hesitated:
II was fascinating him: he felt that he
must kill it, what mischief might il not
do IL granted life.
And then he thought of Peter. and with
the remembrance of Peters gentle face
In his mind II seemed an awful thing to
rise from prayer to Kill. and to Kill, In the
interest OF his worldly wealth So he
forced himself to close his lids that he
might shut out the sight OF the madden
ing insect, and he bowed his poor old
head upon the bed. all weak and tremb-
ling with the victory won.
And then all in a moment he was as
child again: he was back in the little
Bristol tenement. hahbling the first pray
er he had ever learnt
hSnue Jesus. meek ana mild.
Look upon a little child;
Pity my simplicity.
Suffer me to come to Thee,
Fain would I TO Thee be brought,
Dearest God. forbid 1t not:
In the kingdom OF Thy grace.
Grant little child a place"
pray God bless dear mother and faith.
er. and make me good boy, for Chrisi's
sake. Amen"
Then he climbed painfully into his bed
again and lay there uncared for until
the morning: but hts pains were easier.
although the fever ran high. for by this
time he was unconscious. and kept re-
peating again and again the last words
OF his appeal: MAKE me good bow
for ChrIsis sake. Amen"
That next morning sew Peter Smith
break through the habits OF years, for
he left the broom in its corner. ana the
mud on the stones. while he went hurry
ing along the busy. callous streets 10 the
succor Of Thomas Pritchett.
You were always good 10 me. dear
Thomas" quoth Peter tsnicriy. as he sat
and isteued 10 the antiouar.an's soF,
pleadiugs 20 his God.
But Thomas Pritchett needed not that
insufficient consultation: Make me a
good boy" ne whispered. for Christ's
sake. Amen"
And pleading thus he passed into eter-
nifty.
And in the silence which followed Peter
Smith sat and thought Of his boyhood
BY ard by the doctor walked quietly into
tho Swallowed room. and. after a brief
pause by the bedside. spoke In subduets
tone.
we can do no more" ne said
Taea Peter reused himself He seems
bit easier. now" he agreed
The doctor looked az him surprisinglv.
He Is dead" he said.
''Deadt' cried Peter. his poor pale Inns
tren bling over the simple word Tommy
Prltchett dead Why. he's a stronger
mar than me. and its only first chiur'
1T was very severe chill" declare.
the doctor. and he was an old man"
'No olee-'n me- protested Peter. born
the same r1oruin.'"
Then be began - realize i all. and he
sat down again AMI so0eei
Tommy PTitchett, Tommy Pritchettr.
he murmurea. - Ills time for ne 20 90.
too"
Come. come ny good man" said N,
Sector kindly. 81 - pat;ed him gsnsly o.
abe back. he has been spared lot q