The people's journal. (Pickens, S.C.) 1891-1903, 1902-10-23

silks, "That is where my little man
lives, then"
All tho maternity latent in her
being had gone out to this little image
on the wall. All of that instinct so
strong in every good woman to center
their love and sympathy upon some
living object-be it man or child or
pct-had been kindlcd into life, and
was fast becoming passion with her,
putting purpose into her hitherto pur-
posclcss life. There came new inter
est with the reality of the little face
she already loved, with tho thought
that he was here in tho great city aud
she might see him. Whatever the
feeling was in her heart, it drew her
one day to the wretched lodging house
at the corner of Maple street and Lane
court. Never before had her dainty
garments trailed in such direction,
and it was a new experience for her to
| walk through this district of the city.
She found the corner, and near it in
the street some children were playing.
She scanned each face eagerly, but she
failed to find one bearing a likeness to
the picture. She walked further on ,
scrutinizing the face Of every child
she camc upon, but nowhere about the
square did she find her picture boy.
She came again the next day, and
again many days after, growing more
eager in the search the moro her OBJ
jcct cludcd her.
AT last one day as she walked along
almost without hope now of finding
him, of sudden in group of playing
children she saw vivldly before her the
flesh and blood original of her picture,
and even more charming, more mag
nctic than the picture was the reality.
In stout clothes which his chubby
frame filled out to perfection, q round
Woolly "tam" on his head, he was
a goodly sight. She stopped to gaze
at the child she had 50 long dreamed
OF seeing, and he, attracted by the
".prctty lady," came straight toward
her and returned her gaze with the
perfect confidence of perfect self
poisc. She held out her hand to him
as to an old friend and he put his
Land into hers.
Did 90 tum to sec mo 2" he asked,
with the straightforwardncss of child
hood.
Yes" she said, smiling down INTO
his upturned face.
"Dcu 90 must tum into my house -
was his next assertion.
"Ics," again assentcd the woman :;
and she yielded to the delightful nov
city Of the situation as well as to tho
pleasure Of being led by little child.
Up three flights of bare, winding
stairs went the sllken.gowncd woman
and her little guide. He paused OH a
dark landing and with some difficulty
opened door which he held open for
his guest to enter. She paused mol
mcnt, but pcrceiving the room to be
empty, walked softly in. Evidently,
tins one room was all there was of
home to the little lad. 1t was kitchen,
dining room, sleeping room and even
studio, for in one corner where the
light from the one window fell strong
est was an artists easel, and on the
wall were sketches and paintings and
few plaster panels and medallions.
She stepped curiously over to this cor
ner and examined the sketches on the
wall. She almost screamed and would
have done 80 had not those steady
brown eyes been upon her. as she
looked at one of the pen and ink
sketches which was one of two enclosed
in tiny frames. 1t was herself, her.
self as whom school girl, her hair in
two long braidS down her back, the
sailor hat with The wing in it on
her head, and the jacket with the straps
across it-why, she had almost for
gotten it herself. Who-who could
have remembered it like this? She
Iurnod quickly and knecliny on tho
floor by the boy she looked straight in
TO his brown eyes as she SAID to him.
"Tell me, dear, what is your
name ?"
"Stepccn Ward," answered the boy.
well might the woman look as if
she saw a ghost, for SO she had, the
ghost Of her former self, of her love,
OF hcr sweetheart who had been ,dead
TO her for many years.
She gathered the child in her, arms,
and, holding him or her lap, while
I'll, at IN he one rocking char, she
"ald 10 him i. he quictcst tones she
could command
"IcII nc a. ABOUT your father
your mother"
Mamma, said the child, looking
WIN trimming eyes at picture of
SWcct-faccd woman on the wall,
mamma IS dead, and 80 1 am all
alone now until my papa comes home
every night. But don't cry, for papa
says l must be brave. And | am
most always.'
a lump was gathering III tho child's
throat and the brown eyes were fast
filling with tears.
:" Do you know my papa ?" he ask
cd.
Ycs," she answered, as she drew
dow upon her breast the sweet
childish face and kissed him full III the
curving lips, came to zoe him. We
will wait for him together"