The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1904-01-14

from his old remembrance of the house.
The door was opened and his name an
nounced, and he felt that he was passing
into a spacious apartment, the walls of
which were bright and rich with many
pictures, and the ceiling paneled and
massive, with ground glass in the panels,
for the proper TRANSMISSION of light on
Mr.. Simon Culwick's collection When
Simon Culwick had lost his son Reuben,
he had taken to the masters" ancient
and modern, and given them all the love
that was in his heart
But it was not at the paintings which
enriched the walls that Reuben Culwick
gazed with so much of curious earnest
ness, but at the big broadfaced man sit
ting before the fire in a capacious leath-
ern chair, and who was looking curiously
and steadily at him. There was pret-
ty, fair haired young woman, in gray elk,
sitting at the table in the recess Of bay
window, reading, and Reuben was con-
scious of her presence-that was ALL She
rose not at his entrance, only looked to-
ward him with certain degree of curl
osity as he advanced and then turned
10 lub Ddktb VI iltI hOOh ub hG hOAu Mo
hand out to his father.
80 you have thought of me at last,
have you" was rolled out in gruff bass,
as a large, white gouty-looking hand was
placed In that of his son.
80 have come back at last" answer
ed Reuben Culwick.
"You can sit down." said the father.
"Thank you," said the son.
This was the meeting after FIVE years
absence-the calm after the great storm
which had happened in that house FIVE
years ago. This was the home that the
son had never liked, and that he felt he
did not like now, although he had come
to it of his own free will. There was
a pause, during which each man took
stock of the other without any particu-
lar reserve.
II got your letter." said the father,
"and | might have sent the carriage for
you had it not rained so much"
1.-THE horses might have caught cold in
stead of me-" said the son dryly; but
didn't want the carriage. was glad that
l had not further to go last night than
Worcester"
He looked toward the lady In the bay
window at this juncture, and his father
noticed the wandering gaze, and paid no
attention to the hint which 1t conveyed.
"Well, what have you been doing
What do you propose doing now that you
are here2 | suppose, after all that has
passed, you have no intention of sitting
down in the house and waiting compla-
Gently for my death and my money!" the
father inquired.
"You told me that should never have
a penny of your money, if you remember,
sir. have never expected il after that
day." said Reuben Culwick
"Why should your" said Mr.. Culwick
In a loud tone of voice, and yet without
betraying any passion. Have | been
known in all my life to break my word ?
Has not sticking to my word, through
thick and thin, in evil report and good
report, made me what | am? | would
rather break my own heart than break
my word. You know it" said the father
bOastfully.
Fifty hearts as well as your own
yes, | know,it," answered the other. with
an unainching gaze at his father. "and
hence | come to you-not for assistance.
l don't want it: not for affection. | don't
expect it-but with the simple motive,
which | hope that my letter conveyed to
you last week. to see you. TO express sor-
row for a long alienation. 60 feel glad
that you are well. to tell you that am
not unhappy, and to so away again"
The sons tones seemed to impress the
father, who subsidized into his easy chair.
from which he had leaned forward, as If