Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1899-1903, 1899-11-23

deeper speculations-of the times and
seasons wherein the heavens shall be
rolled together as scroll and the stars
shall fall as fig tree casteth her UNI
timely figs and there shall be time no
longer, "when the Son of Man shall
come in his glory and all his holy an
gels with him." In lower and lower
tones they would talk till at last they
fell into whispers. Then they would
wish good night softly and walk home
hushed and quiet.
Tonight, when Lyndall looked in,
Waldo sat before the fire watching
pot which simmered there, with his
slate and pencil in his hand. His ia
ther sat at the table buried in the col
umns of three weeks old newspaper,
and the stranger lay stretched on the
bed in the corner, fast asleep, his
mouth open, his great limbs stretched
out loosely, betokening much weari-
ness. The girl put the ratlons down
upon the table, snuffed the candle and
stood looking at the figure on the bed.
"Uncle Otto" she said presently, lay
ing her hand down on the newspaper
and causing the old German to look up
over his glasses, chow long did that
man say lie had been walking?"
"Since this morning, poor fellow! A
gentleman. not accustomed to walking
horse died-poor fellowp' said the
German, pushing out his lip and glanc-
ing commiseratingly over his specta-
cles in the direction of the bed where
the stranger lay, with his tiabby double
chin and broken boots through which
the flesh shone.
"And do you believe him, Uncle OF.
to?"
"Believe him? Why, of course do.
He himself told me the story three
times distinctly"
If" said the girl slowly, "he had
walked for only one day. his boots
would not have looked so, and f.
. "If!' said the German, starting up in
his chair, trritated that any one should
doubt such irrefragible evidence. "If!
Why, he told me himself! Look how
he lies there" added the German pa
thetically, worn out. poor fellow! We
have something for him, though"
pointing with his foretinger over his
shoulder to the saucepan that stood on
the fire. I'VE are not cooks not
French cooks, not quite-but it's drink
able, drinkable think, better than
nothing, Think he added. nodding
his head in ,jocund manner that
evinced his high estimation of the con-
tents of the saucepan and his profound
satisfaction therein .sBish, Dish, my
chicken!" he said as Lyndall tapped
her little, foot up and down upon the
floor. Dish. Dish, my chicken! 1 You
will wake him."
He moved the candle SO that his own
head might intervene between 1t and
the sleeper's face, and, smoothing his
newspaper. he adjusted his spectacles
to read.
The child's gray black eyes rested on
the figure on the bed. then turned to
the German. then rested on the figure
again.
Il think he, is liar! Good night,
Uncle Otto" she said slowly, turning
to the door.
Long after she had gone the German
folded his paper up methodically and
put 1t in his pocket.
The stranger had not awakened to
partake of the soup. and his son had
fallen asleep on the ground. Taking
two white sheepskins from the heap
of sacks in the corner, the old man
doubled them up and. lifting the boys
head gently from the slate on which
1t rested. placed the skins beneath it.
"Poor lambie. poor lambiem he said,
tenderly patting the great rough bear
like head. Tired. is hew
He threw an overcoat across the
boys feet and lifted the saucepan from
the fire. There was no place where the
old man could comfortably lie down
himself, so he resumed his seat. Open
ing much worn Bible. he began to
read, and, as he read. pleasant
thoughts and visions thronged on him.
Il was stranger, and We took me
in," he read.
He turned again to the bed where
the sleeper lay.
Il was stranger"
Very tenderly the old man looked at
him. He saw not the bloated body
nor the evil face of the man, but, as
1t We're. under deep disguise and
feshly concealment. the form that long
years of dreaming had made very real
to him. Jesus, lover, and is it given
to us. weak and sinful, frail and erring,
to serve thee, to take thee in?" he said
softly rs he rose from his seat. Full
OF joy, he began to pace the little room.
Now and again as he walked he sang
the lines Of German hymn or mutter-
ed broken words Of prayer. The little
room was full of light. 1t appeared to
the German that Christ was very near
him and that at almost any moment
the thin mist of earthly darkness that
clouded his human eyes might be with
drawn and that made manifest of
which the friends at Emmaus, behold
ing it. said, at is the Lord!
Again and yet again. through the
long hours of that night. as the old
man walked, he looked up to the roof
of his little room, with its blackened
Ny-CF AgNr.,