The Republican., 1899-03-23

| sad young man, though the anger in
| his heart still burned fiercely. To have
| heen called coward by the woman he
| loved was thing not lightly to be for
| gotten. His recent visit, too, had been
particularly trying. In his soul he felt
that his words of comfort had been un-
real: that. for all he had striven. he
had failed in his mission to the bereaved
mother. So he trudged across the moor
with SLOW step and bent head. giving no
heed to the summer beauties around
him.
He was about half way home when
his somber meditations were suddenly
interrupted. A man rose from the
heather, where he had been lying. and
stood in the path, barring the curate's
progress.
"Now, Mister Parson," he said, with
menace in his thick voice and bloated
face.
Good afternoon, my man." returned
st. John, recognizing the brute of
week ago, and turning as red as tur-
key-cock,
"Ill good afternoon We, Mister Par
son! No! Ye don't pass till I'm done
wi ye," cried the man, who had been
drinking heavily, though he was too sea-
soned to show any pnsteadiness in gait
ahe7curate'drew' back. what do you
want?" he asked. He was painfully
white now.
what do l want ?" repeated the bully,
following up the question with volley
of oaths that made the little man sLud.
Ger. III tell ye what l want. want
yer apology"-he fumbled with the
apology for interferin' tween
father an his kid. But / licked him
more'n ever for yer blasted interferin'."
"You internal coward" exclaimed st.
John.
His opponent gasped.
Let me pass" said the curate.
mo, We don IL" cried the other. recov-
cring from his astonishment at hearing
strong word from parson.
st. John gazed hurriedly about him.
The path wound across the moor.
through the green and purple of the
heather, cutting a low edge here and
there and losing itself at last in the heat
haze. They were alone.
The bully grinned. "I've got We
now!"
"You have, indeed" said St. John,
peeling off his black coat and throwing
it on the heather. His soft felt hat fol-
lowed. Then he slipped the links from
his cuffs and rolled up his shirt sleeves,
while his enemy gaped at the proceed
ings.
Now I'm ready" said the curate.
gently.
Are ye goin' to fight?" burst out the
other, looking at him as Goliath might
have looked at David. Come on"
But the sentence never passed his
lips, being stopped by a carefully
planted blow from a small but singular
ly hard fist. The little curate was
filled with wild, unholy JOY. He had
not felt like this since his college days.
He thanked Providence for his friends
the Indian clubs and dumbbells, which
had kept him in trim these past three
years. The blood sang in his veins as
he circled round Goliath, guarding the.
giants brutal smashes and getting in a
stroke when occasion offered. 1t was
not long ere the big man found himself
hopelessly outmatched; his wind was
gone. his jaw was swollen and one eve
was useless. He made final effort and
slUng out terrific blow at David. Part
ly oarried, it caught him on the shoul-
der, telling him to the earth Now,
1fal ba VII
tire. But no. The fallen man recoiled
to his feet like young sapling, and the
next that Goliath knew was, ten min
utes later, when he opened his available
eye and found that his enemy was bend
ihg over him, wiping tAe stains from
his face with a fine linen handkerchief
Feel better?" said the curate.
''Well, I'm"
Hush, man; it is not worth swearing
about interposed his nurse. Now get
up"
He held out his hand and assisted the
wreck to its feet.
YOU'D better call at the chemists
and get patched up. Here's money"
The vanquished one took the silver
and gazed stupidity at the giver, who
was making his toilet.
"Please go away, and don't thrash
your boy any more," said st. John, per-
suasively.
Goliath made few steps, then re-
traced them, holding out a grimy paw,
"Mister Parson, I'm-Im-"
Don't say another word. Good-by;"
and the curate shook hands with him.
The big man turned away. Present |
ly he halted once more. 'I'm-!' he |
said. 1t had to come. Then he shambled |
homewards.
st. John adjusted his collar, gave his
shoulder rub and donned his coat and |
hat. AS he started towards the village |
a girl came swiftly to meet him.
"Oh, John, John, you are splendid"
she gasped, as she reached him. Il |
watched you from the hedge yonder."
81 am exceedingly sorry, Miss Ed
miston," said the curate, coldly, raising
his hat and making to pass on.
Nancy started as though he had
struck her; her flush of enthusiasm
paled out. In her excitement she had
FORGOTTEN that event of a Nvppl, ro but