The St. Louis Republic. [volume] (St. Louis, Mo.) 1888-1919, 1901-09-29
I.
The Village ShOpkeeper.

across. the road at his shop. lie gdSeo WILL
a kind of wistfuiness at his own name
painted in unpretending characters over TN
door of the big village store.
Long ago he had looked forward 70 ths
time when the same sign should inform fhe
passeIs-hy ti,a The fourisiiins concern was
the joint property Of John Anderson ana
SON But that hope had been put 10 sieel
years and years before in a fiower-ilned Dec
within a hundred yards of where he stood'
He turned. with a sigh. folded his arms over
the churchyard wall. and let his glance
wander among the graves.
There was little that was dreary or mourn
full in the incicsed space where the inhsn-
itants pf Heath Norton slept their last
sleep. The gray Norman church in the CEN
ter, with its rounded arches. and its sturdy.
square tower. was wreathed in Ivy. and was
the home of countless birds. which filled the
air with sweetest melody.
1t was a perfect May evening when John
Anderson stood, with his arms folded on the
wall. ohliv.ous to the greetings OF acauain-
tances who now and then passed by him
on the paved footway. The fair May sun
shine rested upon everything. and with the
sunshine peace bad come.
On carefully tented graves flowers were
blnUn1lnE. ne PIOEIiSc VI u L
large on deiicate p~etal-tabIets. ana tho air
was full of rich fragrance Of nlacs. On the
less-cared-for graves daisies reveled, ana
ing gold uniforms.
The Erayestones were, for the most part,
plain. Here and there stood an elaborate
monument. and a few simple marble stones
showed white in the sunshine. Anderson's
1900 - n- o-aa fnn
far away TO allow of his reading the inscriP-
ton; but that was immaterial, for he knew
Il BY heart.
Mary Anderson" That was the part which
even now made him draw in his breath with
q kind of sob; but there was another line
which never failed to bring comfort. Jesus
called . little child unto him." Jesus. whit
from him: and because his tender hand had
led him away. It was. well with the child.
"A lovely evening, Mr.. Anderson"
Jay, sir, It's grand" said John. without
turning.
Not much gloom about the old grave
yard, chi" went on the vicar. who had d.
vined the mans thoughts. THE sunshine
and the flowers speak more of life than OF
death
Yes: but deaths the doorway into life.
Well not forget that You an me. sir.
we've botn seen the door open for them as
was dear to US, and It looked black enough
till-tn -"
- We nav the shining figure Of the
Christ. and the darkness became light" saie
the vicar. 4 little shake in his voice. ''our
children,s graves are with US. and the fow-
ers smile up At US. as II to say: They are
not here; they are risen-as he said He
promised for them - well as for himself.
Good evening."
Good evening. sf."
A burst of melody came from the throat
OF . nightingale. 1t was exQuisitely beau
tiful. When II had softened down into ST.
lence, John Anderson raised himself from
the wall and crossed the road slowly to his
shop.
There were several customers within 1t
was nearly closing-tims. and the assistants
were moving briskly about. A young man,
with an intellectual head set proudly on his
shoulders, was attending to the wants of
IN old woman. whose memory was serving
her but poorly; and II was easy to sec. by
the see Of his proud. scornful young mouth. |
that he wa having some difficulty In keep |
Ing his patience and his tempsr.
why DON'T you write down the things
you want before you come, Mrs. Blake? he |
presently. at would ave heaps
Of time. you know"
The old weman's quick temper flashed out.
III WraySf' she exclaimed. "Ah've had
summat slss 70 DO all mo Life nsr learn to
'Twasn't NAH luck to be picked
under . hedEs. an given the best o the
land. FolkD VT honest names -
John AndsDon's hand, laid on her shoul-
der, stopped the shrill torrent Of her speech.
You'll keep . still tongue In your head.
Betty Blaka. q you'll not get served In my
he said. nrmly.
.'TouEs isret t,oniy shop In t'worrld. John
Andersen" sAe retorted. ian Aim nut goin'
to have this ypung upstaYt layin. down tho
Dvseybody knows he's Q nobody-nue
. name %, hit can, an i'm a. prood
n II he vas . losd q the land. Everybody
knows -
That he's a AsSsss lad that needn't b
ashamsa b lesk fhs1erid IN the faoa. How
much doss them thin>p oems to, Heathr'
.'one-and-ninspenos. ~tsaad the young man,
his facs whits. biz lips pomprssssd, and bin
head sttll held proudly.
'-Ons-and-ninepsno4 ~ BiakA Il you
|,
81 want soma bacon and
you'll have to make whatyou.ve got do
for this time" aid John Anderson. ..It.s
closing tie: an, Betty. let M warn o
You needn't set foot In my shdS again till
you know how to behave yersel Nobody
comes in here IL cay . wordtgen Mr..
Heath that they wouldn't ave sid agen
my own lad. II hsd bssn living. 90 3ust
stow that In your memory n thinA about