Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1900-04-26

do" taking the whip out of his pocket
Il am going to beat you"
He paused for a moment. 1t was
perfectly quiet. They could hear each
others breath.
"'Chasten thy son while there Is
hope" said Bonaparte, land let not
thy soul spare for his crying Those
are Gods words. l shall act as n IA
ther to you, Waldo. l think we had
better have your naked back"
He took out his penknife and slit the
shirt down from the shoulder to the
waist.
"Now," said Bonaparte, 81 hope the
Lord will bless and sanctify to you
what am going to do to YOU
The first cut ran from the shoulder
across the middle of the back The
| second fell exactly in the same place.
a shudder passed through the boys
frame.
! Nice, eh?" said Bonaparte peeping
round into his face, speaking with a
lisp, as though TO a very little child
NTH, ehY'
But the eyes were black and luster-
less and seemed not to see him. When
he had given 16, Bonaparte paused in
his work to wipe a little drop of blood
from his whip.
Gold, eh? What makes you shiver
so? Perhaps you would like to pull up
/ your shirt? But I've not quite done
yet"
When he had finished, he wiped the
whip again and put it back in his
| pocket He cut the rope through with
| his penknife and then took up the
! light
you don't seem TO have found your
tongue yet. Forgotten how to cry"
said Bonaparte, patting him on the
cheek.
The boy looked up at him, not sui
| lenly, not angrily. There was n wild,
| fitful terror in the eyes. Bonaparte
made haste to go out and shut the door
| and leave him alone in the darkness.
He himself was afraid of that look.
1t was almost morning. Waldo lay
with his face upon the ground at the
foot Of the fuel heap. There was a
round hole near the top of the door
where knot of wood had fallen out
| and a stream of gray light came in
through it.
Ah it was going to end at last! Moth
| ing lasts forever, not even the night.
How was it he had never thought of
that before? For in all that long dark
night he had been very strong, had
never been tired, never felt pain, had
run on and on, up and down, up and
down. He had not dared to stand still,
and he had not known 1t would end.
He had been so strong that when he
struck his head with all his force upon
the stone wall it did not stun him nor
pain him, only made him laugh. That
was a dreadful night. When he clasp
ed his hands frantically and prayed,
30 God, my beautiful God. my sweet
God, once, only once, let me feel you
near me tonightp' he could not feel
him. He prayed aloud, very loud, and
he got no answer When he listened,
it was all quite quiet, like when the
priests of Baal cried aloId to their god,
80 Baal, hear us; o Baal, hear us!'
but Baal was gone a-hunting.
That was a long, wild night, and wild
thoughts came and went in 1t; but they
left their marks behind them forever;
for, as years cannot pass without
leaving their traces behind them, nei-
ther can nights into which are forced
the thoughts and suferings of years.
And now the dawn was coming, and at
last he was very tired. He shivered
and tried to draw the shirt up over his
oh Thnvy Cratttnn ctiR Hn
had never known they were cut in the
night. He looked up at the white light
that came in through the hole at the
top of the door and shuddered. Then
he turned his face back to the ground
and slept again.
Some hours later Bonaparte came to-
ward the fuel house with a lump Of
bread in his hand. He opened the door
and peered in, then entered and touch
ed the fellow with his boot. Seeing that
he breathed heavily, though he did not
rouse, Bonaparte threw the bread
down on the ground. He was alive.
That was one thing. He bent over
him and carefully scratched open one
of the cuts with the nail of his fore
finger examining with much interest
his last nights work. He would have
to count his sheep himself that day.
The boy was literally cut up. He lock-
ed the door and went away again.
"Oh, Lyndall," said EN-, entering the
dining room and bathed in tears that
afternoon, II have been begging Bona
parte to let him out, and he won't"
1.-The more you beg the more he will
not" said Lyndall.
She was cutting out aprons on the
table.
ooh, but it's late, and l think they
want to kill him." said En-, weeping
bitterly; and, finding that no more con-
ISOLATION was to be gained from her
cousin, she went off blubbering, Il
wonder you can cut out aprons when
Waldo is shut up like that"
For ten minutes after she was gone
Lyndall worked on quietly. Then she
folded up her stuff, rolled it tightly to-
gether and stood before the closed door
of the sitting room with her hands
closely clasped. A flush rose to her
face. She opened the door quickly,
walked in and went to the nail on
which the key of the fuel room hung.
Bonaparte and Tant' Sannie sat there
and saw her.
what do you want?" they asked to-
gether.
This key" she said, holding it up
and looking at them.
do you mean her to have itY' said
Tant' Sannie in Dutch.
'Why don't you stop herF asked
Bonaparte il English.
"Why don't you take it from herT
said Tant' Sannie.
SO they looked at each other, talking,
while Lyndall walked to the fuel house
with the key, her underlip bitten in.
"Waldo," she said as she helped him
to stand up and twisted his arG about
her waist 70 supper: him, eve will not
be children always. We shall have the
power, too, some day" She kissed his
naked shoulder with her soft little
mouth. 1t was all the comfort her
young soul could give him.
fro BE Continued