The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1901-08-08
The Passing of the Tramp.
BY JOSEF E. FRANKLIN.

ticulaticn, were sorting out the oxen
which at the approach of the storm they
had driven hurriedly home
"Tumela, Morena!' shouted one lite
coal-black imp whose skin shone bright
under the glistening rain drops
Tumela, Morena!' he shouted back,
pleased to hear the sounu of a voice
again after the great loneliness through
which he had passed; and thereafter
strobe on with the sembance of smile
upon his haggard face.
The grove of orange trees was nearer
now, and through the slackening rain he
saw a wisp of smoke curl family up At
that sight his eyes frightened and he
hummed snatch Of an old home song
as he thought of the welcome that wait
ed him there.
The old Boer and his stalwart sons and
widowed daughter, with her elfinlike
child would be there, whose sun kissed
golden hair and bright blue eyes made
him think of home-think of it with a
Tightening at his heart, half joy, half
pain. And well the little one might re-
mind him Of his English country home,
Tor had not her father been one of the
many farmers sons who, succeeding 70
a Worn-out plot of land and a goodly
crop of debts at home, had bid his friends
farewell and sailed for sunny Africa, the
land OF gold and gems-and death.
Yes, he knew little Metals story-knew
that just as she had learned to chatter
words of baby wisdom in her fathers ma
tive tongue, he had been stricken with
malarlal fever and died, and left his
widow and the little one to seek again
the refuge of her fathers roof And so,
musing on that, he fell to thinking Of
his own first arrival at the old Beers
farm-how the old man had roughly or
dered him away, called him "rooinek,"
and bade him be a man and work, and
not roam the country to beg, or worse
and how turning YEARLY away. he heard
little English voice ask that she might
give him her cup of coffee, because he
spoke just as "Dadda" used to; and how
at that the old Boer relented and shook
him by the hand, and babe him stay and
eat and Sleep that on the morrow he
might go onward with good courage
He remembered, too, the old Beers 10y
when he and the child had held an amaz-
ing conversation in English as to the
comparative merits of wooden doll with
no limbs and brilliantly-colored scrtD
tural story book with a never-to- be for
gotten picture on it's cover of Jonah clad
in vivid pink lowered sort of dressing
gown calmly reposing in the mouth of
sky blue whale.
How the old man and his big sons had
laughed to hear these two sing, in that
strange language of which they hardly
understood one word, those charming bal
lads of Little Bo-Peep who was con-
tlnually losing her sheep, and who had
evidently not the ghost of an idea where
to find them; and of the adventurous
Jack and Jill who so boldly climbed the
MIL, ana who, alasi met with such dire
disaster on their return journey.
lie thought, too, of his parting on thu
following daT trr{to
with tear-dimmed eyes, she had besought
MIN to come and play with her doll
again, because, although her uncles were
very kind, and tried hard in their
clumsy way to play with her doll, 1t
wasn't really half so nice, as the doll
was one her dear Dada had given
her, and couldn't understand a word of
Dutch
The old man, too, had shaken him by
the hand and loaded him with good
Things, and told him that, should his
search Tor work prove fruitless, to come
back and help awhile on the farm until
something better should turn up. Only
Netta's mother had said nothing; but had
covered her face with her rusty black
apron and Wept silently alone in the
paIlor. And that also he understood
AND now he was returning. disheart
ened, from a long and fruitless tramn
VI ZoO miles over as rough bit Of coun-
Try as the TraHsvGal could offer. Yer
as ne came nearer and nearer to the
stream, across which the homestead
showed quite clearly through the trees
tired and wet through though he was
ne Tell into a happier mood than he had
known for months past.
Inc rain had ceased and the sun was
flooding the veIdt with that rich red glow
peculiar to the last hour of sunshine
amer storm. Over MachaIiesb,lre q
ozark hllls was passing a great White
cloud, like gigantic angels wing ana
where the full force of the gorgeons
suns rays fell upon it thev giIde1 ito
uhaulatlng edge with lovely golden
INT, mat IN turn merged by beautiful
srapuatlons into a soft pinky mauve
which, becoming imperceptibly paler. LOST
Itself hnally in the pure Wilderness of the
pln1on's farther edge
10 the Wanderer it looked like an en-
plem OF peace, and, musing upon it, he
c0He TO the bank of the stream But
what was this? The stream he knew of
old-that gently ripping rivulet whose
sheen ne had seen afar off only this
nlornlng-Was gonei In it's palce a tur-
gld rushing torrent, that filled the over
bed almost to its highest banks. was
surging madly along, bearing upon it's
crest branches of trees ruth! esslv torn
A4oII the parent trunks by the violence
OF the storm. For an instant he stood
aghast. He had not reckoned upon this
barrier between his WEAKNESS ana the
rest promised by the farmhouse so close
by.
Then he bethought him of a ford high
er up, where the river was wider and
the force of the current would be great
~ Iessened. 1t meant another miles
tramp, though, and so he turned awav
with sigh, and prepared to follow the
trend of the river up to the ford. But
as he turned, upon the farther shore he
saw come hurrying a tiny figure, stagger.
ing along under a huge sunbonnet. which.
when it saw him, lifted up two little
arms and shouted, "Englishman. English
man.
Then great warmth came about his
heart. The little one knew him: remem-
pered him so we'll that she had recognized
MN before he had discerned her. lie
threw down his battered camp kettle. and
waved his poor old hat aIoft. Meta
Meta, Sweetheart" he shouted che
Engllshman has come back to plav with
your doll Then, as she came nearer
TO the bank, he called to her to sion
60 back, little one he said-O. so ten
derly-"Go back, Meta! 1 am coming
round bv the ford