The Middleburgh post. [volume] (Middleburgh, Snyder Co., Pa.) 1883-1916, 1900-04-19
(coNTNUEp.l
CHAPTER V.

power. but this scene with his drunken
son crushed him for moment and
seemed to take the very soul out Of
him. Mrs. Hardy at first uttered a
wild cry and then ran forward and.
seizing her elder boy, almost dragged
him into the house. while Mr.. Hardy.
recovering from his first shock, looked
sternly at the companions Of the boy
and then shut the door. That night
was a night of sorrow In that family.
The sorrow Of death Is not to be COM
pared with It
But morning came. as 1t comes alike
to the condemned criminal and to the
pure hearted child on holiday. and
after a brief and troubled rest Mr..
Hardy awoke to his second day, the
memory Of the night coming to him at
first as an ugly dream, but afterward
as a terrible reality. His boy drunk!
He could not make II seem possible.
Yet there in the next room he lay In a
drunken stupor, sleeping off the effects
of his debauCh of the night before. Mr..
Hardy fell on his knees and prayed for
mercy. again repeating the words. al
mighty God. help me to use the remain.
ing days In the wisest and best man.
ner." Then calming himself by ire
mendous effort he rose up and faced
the days work as bravely as any man
under such circumstances could.
After family council, In which all
Of them were drawn nearer together
than they ever had been before on ac-
count Of their troubles. Mr.. Hardy out.
lined the days work something as fol
lows:
First, he would 60 and see James
Caxton and talk over the affair with
him and Clara. Then he would so
down to the office and arrange some
necessary details of his business. II
possible, he would come home to
lunch. In the afternoon he would 60
to poor Scoville's funeral. which had
been arranged for o'clock. Mrs.
Hardy announced her intention to 60
also. Then Mr.. Hardy thought he
would have q visit with George and
spend the evening at homo arranging
matters with reference to bis own
death. With this programme in mind
he finally went away after an affection.
ate leave taking with his wife and
children.
George slept heavily until the middle
Of the forenoon and then awoke with .
raging headache. Bess had several
times during the morning stolen into
the room to see II her brother were
awake. When he did finally turn over
and open his eyes, he saw the young
girl standing by the bedside. He
groaned rs he recalled the night and
his mothers Look, and Bess said timid-
| ly as she laid her hand on his forehead:
George, I'm so sorry for you! Don't
you feel we'll"
81 feel as If my head would split
open. 1t aches as If some one was
chopping wood inside Of it."
what makes you feel So" asked
Bess innocently. "Did you eat too much
supper at the Bramleys'"
Bess had never seen any one drunk
before, and when George was helped to
bed tho night before by his father and
mother she did not understand his con
dition She had always adored her big
brother. 1t was not strange she had no
idea of his habits.
George looked Mt his small sister Gu.
riously; then, under an impulse he
could not explain. he drew her nearer
to him and said:
"Bess, I'm bad fellow. ! was drunk
last night! Drunk dc you under
standr And I've nearly killed mother!
Bess was aghast ut the confession
She put out her hand again.
"Oh, no, George" Then with swift
revulsion Of feeling she drew back ant
said, "How could you. with father feel
ing as he does"
And little Bess, who was q creature
Of very impulsive emotions. sat dowI
crying on what she supposed was
cushion. but which was Georges tai
hat, accidentally covered with one enc
of a comforter which had slipped of
the bed. Bess was very plump littl'
creature. and as she picked herself vi
and held up the hat George angrily ex
claimed:
You're always smashing my things!
But the next minute he was sorry 70
the words.
Bess retreated toward the door, quiv
ering under the injustice Of the charge
, At the door she halted. She had some
thing Of Claras passionate temper. an
once in awhile she let even her adore'
brother George feel it. small as sh
was.
George Hardy, II you think more o
your old stovepipe hat than you do
your sister. all right You'll never &c
any more Of my months allowance
, And II do smash your things l don
come home drunk at night and brea
mothers heart. That's what she
crying about this morning-that an
fathers queer ways. oh, dear. ! don
want to live; life is so full of trouble!
And little 12-year-old Bess sobbed !
genuine sorrow.