Belding banner. (Belding, Mich.) 1889-1918, 1900-05-24
w. c. T. u. COLUMN.
Ola solomon.

Just as the church bell struck eight
o'clock, old Solomon Fame, the cobbler,
emerged from his little cottage, and
proceeded in the direction OF the viii
lage house. Soloman had been In the
habit OF starting on this same Journey
at precisely the same hour every eve
ming for the last five years or so. Drink
had become all in all TO the old man
since the death OF his little daughter
Winnie. Already widower, he then
had no home ties Of any kind, and it
was to forget his misery, so he said,
that he had taken to trequenting the
Green Man. Not that you would
have thought his visits there really
had made him forget his misery, had
you seen him this evening; for indeed,
his face wore worn and downcast
look, such as you may often have OBJ
served 10 those who in their heart of
hearts conceal bitter sorrow.
When he had come to the screen
Man." the old cobler paused, and
looked at the place doubtfully. He in
yariably looked at it in this way be-
fore entering, somehow, aud it is pos
sible that for a moment he was in
state OF INDIGESTION as TO whether he
should go in or no, although he always
ended by stealing furtively in. He
was just on the point of doing so on the
present occasion, when all OF a sudden
a little hand was slipped into his, and
a reproving voice murmured:
"Are you going in there?"
Old Solomon started, and looked
around abruptly. He beheld before
him winsome little maiden of about
six summers, who was so wonderfully
like his own little daughter, whom he
had lost five years ago, that for a mo-
ment the resemblance fairly staggered
him, and he could only just stare at
her without saying a word.
you were going in there" said the
the child, after a pause, severely; 81 IN
ashamed of you, I'm sure"
"Why-why should you be ashamed
o. me, child?" stammered Solomon,
when he had somewhat recovered from
his surprise.
"Drinking's bad for people" replied
the little stranger, with a grave shake
Of the head, "My father would never
90 in there, old man."
"Ah, said Soloman, rather bitterly,
NMaybe your father is one of them
men as has comfortable home to sit
in Of an evening, with plenty o. rela-
tions around TO keep them company.
When a man has that, he don't feel Sc
much inclined to spend his time in
places like the Green Man, my dear. !"
well, father does have an awful
nice time when he comes home, Of
course" she admitted, in thought
ful tone, '"Cos he plays wits Freddie
and me mostly; only tonight he
couldn't. But haven't you got anyone
to play with when you've left off work
ing?"
"Can't say as | haye, my dear"
She glanced at him wonderingly.
Haven't you got any wife, or any
children, or any friends?"
mo / amt got no wife, no children,
no friends"
"Oh, | see, you're one of those old
bachelors?"
mo, I'm not that either" said Sol
omon, with a suspicion of huskiness in
his voice. II had a gal once, just like
you, but now she's dead, and" Then
as if ashamed OF his emotion, he sud-
denly turned his back upon her, and
made as though he wonld push open
the ale house door.
But say" she cried, trying to de-
tain him.
"Well"'-with a grunt.
81 'spect If your little girl was alive
now you wouldn't ever go into public
houses?"
, 81 expect l wouldn't; / expect l
wouldn't want the drink at all then"
"And-and p'raps even if now you
had somebody else to play with you
, every evening you would mt, either?"
THAT all depends.
For a minute or two she seemed
buried in deep thought. Her little
mouth was twitching rather queerly.
IL was evident that some sort of a
5 struggle was going on in her mind.
AT length she gave an excited little
} jump.
Eyes, that's just what will do she
cried triumphantly. "Old man, how
would you like me to come and keep
you company every evening? I'm sure
father will be only too glad to let me
when l tell him all about it. Then we
could have the most splendid fun, you
can't think. We'd go into Springfield
Lane and gather flowers, and do all
sorts of thinpa Xou Yni0bt ,nst ,tand