The pioneer press. (Miller, Hand County, S.D.) 1893-190?, 1900-09-06

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the prodigal's return.
Meanwhile he walked familiar
streets, merry "reminiscences crowding
round him, sad ones also, both with
the same surprising pathos. The keen
frosty air; the low, rosy, wintry sun;
the castle, hailing him like an old ac-
quaintance; the names of friends on
door-plates; the sight of friends whom
he seemed to recognize, and whom he
| eagerly avoided, in the streets; the
pleasant chant of the north country ac-
cent; the dome Of st. Georges remind
ing him of his last, .penitential mo-
ments in the lane, and of that King of
Glory whose maine had echoed ever
since in the saddest corner of his
memory; and the cutters where he had
learned to slide, and the shop where
ne had trod, and the ratings in which
he had ratified his clachan as he went to
school; and all those thousand and one
nameless particulars, which the eye
sees without noting, which the memory
keeps indeed yet without knowing, and
which, taken one with another, build
up for us the aspect of the place that
We call home: all these besieged him,
as he went, with both delight and sad
ness.
His first visit was for Houston.
VINO had house on Regents Terrace,
Kept for him in old days by an aunt.
The door was opened Ito his surprise)
upon the chain, and voice asked him
from within what he wanted.
i want Mr.. Houston-Mr. Alan
Houston" said he.
And who are YEP" said the voice.
This Is most xtraordinary," thought
John; and then aloud he told his name.
Not young Mr.. John?" cried the
voice, with sudden increase of Scotch
accent. testifying to a friendlier feel
ing.
The very same" said John.
And the old butler removed his de-
lenses. remarking only, II thought We
were that man." But his master was
not there; he was staying, 1t appeared.
at the house in Murrayfield; and though
the butler would have been glad enough
to have taken his place and given all
the news of the family, John, struck
with little chill, was eager to be gone.
Only, the door was scarce closed again.
before he regretted that he had not ask
ed about that man."
He was to pay no more visits till he
had seen his father and made all we'll
at home; Alan had been the only pos
sible exception, and John had not time
to so as far as Murrayfield. But here
he was on Regents Terrace; there was
nothing to prevent him going round
the end OF the hill, and looking from
without on the Mackenzies' house. As
he went, he recollected that Flora must
now be woman of near his own age,
and 1t was within the bounds of posi-
bility that she was married; but this
dishonorable doubt he damned down.
There was the house. sure enough;
but the door was of another color, and
what was this-two door plates? He
drew nearer; the top one bore, with dig
nif1ed simplicity, the words, "Mr. Proud
foot" the lower one was more explicit.
and informed the passer-by that here
was likewise the abode of "Mr. ]. A.
Dunlop Proudfoot, Advocate"
The Proudfoots must be rich, for no
advocate could look to have much bust
ness In so remote quarter; and John
hated them for their wealth and for
their name, and for the sake of the
house they desecrated with their pres
ence. He remembered Proudfoot he
had seen at school, not known; little
whey-faced urchin, the despicable men,
Der OF some lower class. Could it be
this abortion that had climbed to be
an advocate, and now lived in the birth
place of Flora and the home of Johns
tenderest memories? The chill that had
first seized upon him when he heard of
Houston's absence deepened and struck
inward. For moment, as he stood
under the doors of that estranged
house, and looked east and west along
the solitary pavement of the Royal Ter
race, where not cat was stirring, the
sense of solitude and desolation took
him by the throat, and he wished him
self in San Francisco.
And then the figure he made, with
his decent portliness, his whiskers, the
money in his purse, the excellent cigar
that he now lighted, required to his
mind in consolatoTy comparison with
that of certain maddened lad who, on
a certain spring Sunday ten years
before, and in the hour of church
time silence, had stolen from that city
by the Glasgow road. In the face of
these changes, it were impious to doubt
fortunes kindness. All would be well
yet; the Mackenzies would be found,
| Flora Younger and lnYelier and kindar