The labor world. [volume] (Duluth, Minn.) 1896-current, 1903-10-03
MOURNFULLY LATE,

The old farmer died suddenly, so
When Judge Gilroy, his only son, re-
| celved the telegram, he could do moth
| ing but go up to the farm for his
funeral. It 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 a heart
ache; 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! joint
INCREASINGLY
! IF I could have: been with him!' said
the Judge Wiz 49, q 4 4+4 :l-!4sa
l. HE was greatly disappointed that
you missed your half-year1y visit last
spring. Your visits were the events
| of his life," said the doctor.
Last spring? Oh, yes; I 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 chill
dren, and ceased to ask his father to
| the house.
The farmhouse was in order and
scrupulously clean, but it's 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 wooded chairs were there when
he was a boy. It 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 poored
over them!
Looking now into the kind old face,
with the white hair lying motionsless
| 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 the deaf old
Martha fol. his sole companion!
There hung upon the wall the pho
tograph Of young man with an eager.
strong face, looking proudly at a club
by boy on his knee. The Judge saw the
strength in the face.
my father should have played a
high part in life," he thought. 'There
is more promise in his face than in
mine.''
In the desk was a bundle of old &C.
count-books with records Of years of
hard drlldgery 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 youne
men in town had, until but a meager
portion Of the farm was left.
John Gilroy suddenly closed the book
"And this is the end!"' he said. ''The
boy for whom he lived: and worked
won fortune ana position-and how did
he repay hin?''',: w. ,..;> :. ..x
! The man knelt on the bare floor, and
shed bitter tears on the quiet old face
Ike father! "a ther!!5"' he cried But there
Twas no smile On the quietS face. He wa
too late Youth' ss Comp 81.
Ia b s. /. " !oo