The daily morning journal and courier., 1900-10-02

turn back because the helmsman's overboard There's another thing, 100. You know the revolving light on the hill there?"
 Gollop nodded.
 Well, a lot of good that would be to a man If he had 1t in the boat with hlm' No, you've got to go through this thing alone I'm going home, but you might think of that-When you are fishing tonight"
 So I got up and left him alone with his sorrow, and as I was still in no mood for the festival, went back to my own house and spent satisfactory afternoon with my auriculae. Auricu- las are a good thing for man, as l teaching him humility and patience.
 It was about three o'clock next morn ing when I was awakened by heavy hammering at my door, and going down-stairs I found Aaron standing outside with bundle in his arm. he pushed his way inside the passage.
 Light a lamp or something he said "and make one of the maids bring down some blankets. I can't take her home, for there is only the one bed and Monicas on 1t.
 He unbuttoned his coat, which he had wrapped round the child he was carry ing, and I saw that 1t was a girl of three or four years old. I looked at him inqulringly, and presently, when he had got fire burning, and the doc tor, whom I had sent for had told us that she might now do well, Gollop l told rna what had happened.
 "Id gone out for brill" he said. "You know the ground; you get your boat so that you're in line with the factory chimney and with the tower of Wildacres church. A collier had just gone out from the cobb and this child must have fallen overheard, but I couldn't make anybody hear, though shouted as I never did. Guess she's round the Bill by now, and the childs mine"
 He said it flercely, as if challenging our right to take 1t from him, and l exchanged looks with the doctor. l thought of the bed in the stone cottage up the hill, which would have been empty next day if 1t had not been for this child.
 "Of course the child's yours" I said: "and unless the father who's fool enough to let her fall overheard choos- es to make inquiries, yours she will re- main"
 May she bide here until after to- morrow?"
 I knew what he meant. The little bed in the stone cottage would not be empty until tomorrow afternoon.
 "Of course she must" I said; and presently, with a jealous look at the sleeping child, Aaron went away.
 Next day my blinds were down, but half an hour or so after the church bell had stopped to1llng heard his step come up my gravel path. Hie eyes were dry and rather bloodshot, but he sdidn't say @ word. I took him into the room and put the child into his arms, buttoning round 1t the coat in which ne had brought it home. She looked al him gravely. but went to him readily enough, and nestled up against him as if she trusted him. Aaron turned, and still without speaking, strode down te the gate, which I opened for him. think he would have tried to speak but I'stopped him
 That's all right, Gollop," I said; "Pll look you up In day or two, and if you want any things for her, you know where to come. There are still some here you know"
 Sorrow breeds sympathy and sympa- thy makes one very quick in the up take. Gollop understood me, for onc' there had been child in my cottage too. As he turned out of the gate anc etrode up the hill I followed him uI with one parting shot,
 You'd no fault to find with the doc tor yesterday, Gollop; your quarre was with some one else. Go home man, and make it up while you may And although his face was turned from me I could imagine that in thos' bloodshot eyes a softer light was al ready dawning as he looked down upoi the child who had been so strangel' sent to him. and I knew that before many days had passed he would be th first to admit that with both the chil dren it was well.-London Mainly About People.