The Western news., 1903-04-15

SON WAS MOURNFULLY LATE

The old farmer died suddenly, so
when Judge Gilroy, his only son, re-
ceived the telegram, he could do moth
ing but so up to the farm for the fu-
neral. 1t was difficult to do even that,
for the judge was the leading lawyer
in --, and every hour was worth
many dollars to him.
AS he sat with bent head in the
grimy little train which numbered
through the farms, he could not keep
the details Of his cases out of his mind. :
He had been good. respectful son. He
had never given his father heartache;
and the old man died full of years and
virtues, "a shock of corn fully ripe"
The phrase pleased him.
II wish to tell you," said the doctor,
gravely, that your fathers thoughts
were all of you. He was i'll but an
hour, but his cry was for John! John!'
increasingly"
If l could have been with him!"
said the Judge.
HE was greatly disappointed that
you missed your half-yearly visit last
spring. Your visits were the events of
his life" said the doctor
Last spring? Oh, yes; 1 took my
family then to California"
II urged him to run down and see
you on your return, but he would not
CO."
mo, he never felt at home in the
city,"
The judge remembered that he had
not asked his father to come down.
Ted was ashamed Of his grandfather's
wide collars; and Jessie, who was a
fine musician, scowled when she was
asked to sing the Portuguese Hymn"
every night. The judge humored his
children and had ceased to ask his
father to the house.
The farmhouse was in order and
scrupulously clean; but its baroness
gave chill to the judge, whose own
home was luxurious. The deaf old wo-
man who had been his fathers servant
sat grim and fearless by the side of the
coffin.
Martha was faithful" whispered the
doctor, "but she's deaf His life was
very solitary. The neighbors are young.
He belonged to another generation"
He reverently uncovered the coffin,
and then with Martha went out and
closed the door. The judge was alone
with his dead.
Strange enough, his thought was still
of the cold baroness Of the room. Those
hacked wooden chairs were there when
he was boy. 1t would have been SO
easy for him to have made the house
comfortable-to have hung some pic
lures on the wall! How his father had
delighted in his engravings, and pored
over them!
Looking now into the kind old face,
with the white hair lying motionless
on it, he found something in it which
he had never taken time to notice be-
fore-a sagacity, nature fine and SEN
sitive. He was the friend, the com
rade, whom he had needed SO often!
He had left him with deaf old Mar
tina for his sole companion!
There hung upon the wall the photo
graph Of young man with an eager,
strong face looking proudly at a chub-
by boy on his knee. The Judge saw the
strength in the face.
"My father should have played
high part in life," he thought. There
is more promise in his face than in
mine"
In the desk was bundle of old ac-
count books with records of years Of
hard drudgery on the farm; of work in
winter and summer and often late at
night, to pay Johns school bills, and
to send him to Harvard. One patch of
ground after another was sold while
he waited for practice, to give him
clothes and luxuries which other young
men in town had. until but meagre
portion of the farm was left.
John Gilroy suddenly closed the book.
"And this is the endv' he said. "The
boy for whom he lived and worked.
won fortune and position-and how did
he repay him?"
He knelt on the bare floor, and shed
bitter tears on the quiet old face. "Oh
father! father" he cried. But there
was no smile on the quiet face. He
was too late.-Youth's Companion.