The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1903-12-19
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ows seemed sorrOwful, and dropped. One
in particular, sweetfaced little girl; hold
ing in her hand just such little lamb,
seemed to gaze at him in grieved surprise
He knew the lamb. He remembered
it. He had himself given it to that sweet
faced little girl. There! he could see him
self now with the toy in his hand that
long. ago Christmas night stealing with
boyish glee through the silent darkness OF
the old house to put the lamb where the
sleeping child would surely see it the first
thing when she awoke in the morning
Then he could see the sweet face growing
pale and thin; he could see the tired, weary
look in the eyes which still had only love
for him. He could see her in the little
bed waiting so patiently for the longed-for
relief; and always, always there was the
little woolly lamb nesting on the pillow by
the pale cheek or clingingy held In the
transparent hands.
All little wonder that he buried his
face in his hands and groaned; little Won
der that he paced the floor and muttered
incoherent words little wonder that in fight
ing the memory that would make the great
err part of his life a wretched mistake he
should so wrathfully spurn the poor little toy
lying manned on the floor. But still less
wonder that he should at last stoop down
and tenderly take up the little woolly lamb,
and then sink, all trembling and broken,
into his big chair, and give himself up to
remorse-give himself up to thoughts of
that other life which from its cradle almost
he had robbed of all tenderness and joy.
All, well, there might yet be time to save
Harry. At least he could try to compen-
safe him for his lost boyhood. But hrst
he must hasten to undo this nights cruel
work. And the old man, with strange
tenderness, began to stroke the little woolly
lamb, muttering, brokenly, the while :
mot human, Right, right, and haven t
been these years and years. Struck her,
too. Poor little thing! But she child.
she Il forgive me. .
He touched the bell on the table, and
David quickly answered the summons
"Davie, said the old man, gentlyr and
then, seeing him start, added, Il haven't
called you so these many years, have l,
Davie?'
mo. sir answered the faithful old
servant, looking anxiously at his master
.sOh, it's not sickness, Davie, said
the old man, interpreting the look; elm
quite well, Davie; merry Christmas to
you, Davie. .
"A merry Christmas, sir, stammered
David.
"And where's Harry? where's the
boy?''
master Harry, sir
Harry, after this, Davie. There
more love in it, Davie; and-and DAVE,
we II have bit of love here after this If
we can-if it ism t too late. Where is
Harry
''Gone out, sir
"Ah! Gone out. Nothing here to keep
him even on Christmas Eve, is there, Da-
vie? Nothing here! But there will be,
Davie-there will be- Get me my hat and
coat, Davie, lad y
"But, surely, sir, you'll not 90 out to-
night? It's showing hard and cold and"
'Davie, I'd not stay in tonight if |
knew it d freeze me. Nay, Davie, lad,
but I've found Christmas once again, and
L M afraid I'll lose it if don go out.
''At least, sir, let me 90 with you.
.sWhat! And run the risk of Harry
coming home and waiting outside! No, no,
Davie; stay here, stay here. y
The old man would be obeyed; and leav
ing the anxious Davie to wonder at the
change in him, he hurried out
into the snow with childish eagerness. He |
hurried through the streets of Oldburg,
and crossed to the other side of town,
where the widow Morgan lived. He went
straight up to her door and rang the bell.
The widow herself opened the door. She
started back with frightened look on her
face when she saw who it was.
ooh! oh! You, Mr.. Thorndike!' she
cried in an unnecessarily loud voice, as if
she wished those inside to hear who it was.
eyes, ma am; yes, [. I've come to
ask your pardon, widow, for my-my bru
tality to you, and-and, please, Mrs. Nor
gan, be good to me, and let me into your
house. II want to make my peace with
that baby"
eyes, sir; yes-but-''
The widow was singularly agitated.
"But you must let me in, widow; in
deed you must. There, the door is shut.
Now take me to where they are. Oh, 1
know they hate me, but they'll like me
by and by, maybe. don't deserve it,
but hope they will. "
He was 50 different from the hard, cold
man of an hour ago that the widow was
quite bewildered, and did not oppose his
progress into the sitting room. He open
ed the door and looked in. ooh! hellor'
he cried.
Henry, defiant of bearing and scornful
of lip, stood confronting him, with the
children huddled behind him.
"You here, Harry!' cried the old man.