The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1903-03-13

brought with us.
one lovely day In carly June we were
seated there after eating our dinner.
/ was reading a book, and tho children
were amusing themselves I'm various
ways.
Pearl Athcrton strolled alone across
the bridge. to look for violets, which
sometimes grew on the opposite side.
In coming back, she stopped in the
middle Of the bridge, threw some
leaves into the water, and leaned
against the railing, watching them as
they aoated away.
The railing was Old nd in some
manner had become so !oosened that
It gave way with her weight. and, with
a piercing cry, she went down end out
OF sight.
Tom stood upon the bank, white and
speeches., with q look Of agony !
shall never forget. He could not swim,
and so could never reach her.
But at the first cry Joe had stripped
off his coat, and In q minute plunged
in and swan steadily toward the spot
where the little GOLDEN head went
down
lie grasped Lor rs she rose to the
surface the second time, raised her
head out of the water, and slowly
swan with her to the bank.
When l took her from his arms, and
laid her upon the grass, the beautiful
face was white and still, but she had
been in the water such a short time
that 4 vigorous rubbing soon made her
open her eyes and speak to Us, and she
was soon talking in her usual manner
We wrapped her up as we'll as we
could, and sent her home with a neigh
Dor who was passing in n wagon. Joe
ran home changed his clothes, and
came back none the worse for his wet
ting.
After the bell rang missed Joe and
Tom from their seats The back door
was ajar and looked out. There stood
Tom with tears in his eyes, holding
both Joes hands.
Can you ever forgive me?" he was
saying Il have been too hateful for
anything, but I'm awfully sorry, Joe.
If you'll forgive me I'll be a better
fellow after this. If Pearl had been
! drowned I don't know what l would
have done. Oh, Joe! I thought I would
die when 1 saw her go under the water.
1 can't ever thank you enough"
81 don't want any thanks" said Joe,
putting his hand on Toms shoulder.
1T is all right. I was glad to do it.
Don't say anything more about it,
please"
They talked a few minutes longer,
but 1 did not hear what they were say
ing. Then they remembered that the
bell had rung, and they came into the
schoolhouse.
From that day Tom was q different
boy. He was quiet and kind with the
other pupils, and he and Joe were fast
friends. He grew earnest and manly
from seeing Joe's honest, upright life.
When The term closed, I came to my
Eastern home, and after a few years
entirely lost track Of my pupils. I did
not know whittier they had drifted. OF
what they were doing, though 1 often
wondered.
In the fall Of 1890 took trip along
the Pacific coast, and one Sunday
morning, in company with a friend
went to one Of the finest churches
had seen in that locality. As the min
lister began to speak, I thought l saw
something familiar in his face and
manner but could not place him. He
gave one of the most earnest, eloquent
sermons to which I ever listened.
l sat and wondered where I coult
have seen that man before. SY@%2ll
it came to nett was the ldS gsn(
manner Of my pupil Of years ago, Joe
Morton.
I waited to speak to him, and wa
invited to call at his home next day
And there I found him the same Jor
in heart, nobly, tenderly caring for hi
feeble, white-haired mother and in
valid father.
He has made for himself a name no
soon to be forgotten in the State il
which he lives; he is q strength an,
inspiration to his friends; he has writ
ten several books that stand high i
the literature OF our country, and one
he was only a ragged, barefooted boy
What may you not accomplish if 70
l stand for the right and try, tt
e again"-Wavecley Magazine.
Puritan Pies