Omaha daily bee., 1902-03-02

the hame in whilk he was born-aye an his
fathers afore him for a dozen generations.
"Oh, it's a Weakened thing In a. the
countryside. Gregory Glendonwyn was his
name, even as it is that o. the prood auld
reprobate wha dwells yonder at this day and
hour. He cam forth in anger, did my gand-
father-forth frae the hoose that might hae
been his ain. 4 will work WI my hands
for wife and BARNS says he, confirming
the same wi an oath as was his habit, but
l will no longer bear my fathers name, nor
touch a penny that hath been hist So said
he an so he did. He bred his son, my
father. to be a joi~ner-himself being with
DOT a settled trade took naturally to the
schoolmastering. And sac here in the face
Of the michly stand /, David Glendinning,
owing nea man a farthin' an never be-
madden to ony Glendonwyn, great or sma',
for as muckie as a soda scone or a drink
O. caller water!"
1t was a true word that old Gray Wolf
spake. All that could be said against 1t
was that he spoke 1t somewhat too often.
On the day OF his visit to the school John
Glendonwyn took lunch with the rector
and his wife in the two-storied, white
washed house adjoining the little academy.
Mrs. Colstoun was a handsome woman Of
40, to appearances a little tired and list
less, but when once known, full Of the
sweetest and tenderest humors. Her eye,
naturally motherly, lighted with pleasure.
kind and compassionate, upon the lad. AS
good as orphaned, she called him to Mr..
Colstoun. IF I were left alone with that
curmudgeon Of a father. l declare l would
shoot either myself or him." she would
say in her brisk, sudden way.
+, The ohiIdran uara In fhaiu ,Io... Il
table, from Grace. the pretty eldest girl,
to Johnny. the late heroic Ounce Of the
infant school room, who sat regarding John
Glendonwyn with great. round eyes.
you are to be in this part OF the world
for some time, are you not, Mr.. Glen
donwyn?' the woman Of the house inquired
graciously, shooting a glance at him out
Of her unfathomable dark eyes.
Till about the middle Of the month, >"
said John, mildly unsuspicious.
John is coming to give me a hand in
the school with the upper classical fellows,
while ] dress up the lower forms before the
presbyterial examination" said her hus-
band; that young Martin Fraser does his
best. but 1t might be Just humanity pos
sible to construct a thing Of springs and
eloekwork which would be Of as much real
use!"
1t Is most KIND OF you to help my hus-
band in your holidays" said Mrs. Colstoun
reaching out her han to John, a hand
which had done him many a kindness 10 tn,
days when his father sent him to board with
the r~ector's family in order that the castle
might be freed of his presence. "You give
up a great deal Just to stand in a stun,
school room and drill Latin rudiments int
dull cubs like those Of ours. / don't know
why you do i'll"
Like an arrow little Johnny's hand shoI
out, the forefnger and thumb cracking mer
rily, as II in class.
II know-please muzzer. little Dzonnl
knowsl"
"Why, because he loves father. Johnny
and because he is kind, Of Counsel" sal,
his mother.
But Johnny had later information. II
would have none Of such milk-and waite
explanations.
mo, 'tisn't one bitl" he almost shrieke,
the words, being afraid he would b
stopped; tits betause i'm likes to hoI
teatzer's hand"
A g~urgling explosion ran along the doubl
line Of Johnny's brothers and sisters.
Johnny, leave the rooml'
1t was the stern voice OF his father, VIII
seldom spoke at table to his younge