The Press., 1904-06-08
#A N @A e4 2 BE AND AuTTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM
By LosiSe MuAMs Cssyea
-.oopyrish. isR by T. c. Mcclure

- went, % that whenever he did think of settling down 1t was with very de csded picture in his mind-a picture of a home that was home in the fullest sense of the word, where there reigned a wife whose life would be bound up in that home; where there romped lit tie children who would welcome him with smiles and with dropping faces see him go. And 1t was this feeling. but duly realized, that made him look upon Miss Ellison with something of doubt, albeit much of admiration
 Life was joyous to Alice Ellison. Her blood ran high, and nothing had crossed her path that tended to make her fgel aught but the joy of living. It was natural, therefore, that she should laugh and dance and sing. Sometimes, though, 1t palled on her. and she would sit within the silence of her room, wondering why she could not -fall in love, really and truly and deeply" And always at this wonder the picture of Allyn Hardin rose be fore her and her heart grew tender. And then something would crop up, like the weeds in the parable, choking out these tiny seeds of love. And that something was pitifully like the vision that had but just caused her momen- tary giadness. But the clear blue eyes We're so cold, the fine mouth to firmly set with determination, the chin so square, that she would rise inpatient ly, crying out:
 "Ah, no, he would never be tender, nor sweet, nor-nor''-
 For she, too, had her picture of what a home should be, and while she dared dwell on 1t, as he could do. it was there. in the clouds above her head-a home in which there was a woman whose hfe's one aim was to keep the tired lines from her husbands face. the worrying cares from his heart. to maintain forever the smiles on those little upturned faces at her knee. But the husband must be one with a heart warm enough to take and profit by the sympathy she held out to him in such good abundance, a man who could understand the hearts of those little children in the arms of that t#E s
 So. thinking much but understand Ing little of each other, they went their separate ways until one morning early, when a train drew out from the depot, Alice seated in the chair car. Allyn swinging on to the step of the last coach.
 He was off on his vacation, and in the curlings of the smoke he saw not the face of Alice Ellison. but cool. green hooks by running streams. He heard the crunch of the dried leaves beneath his feet and felt the tugging of the trout upon his line.
 He had bid Alice goodby two even ings before, expecting to leave the city then, and be recalled her look of good, frank friendship as she had put her hand in his. What a pity there Is not more to her." he mused. "She is so at tractive. but she lacks weight"
 The train was coming to a stop, and Allyn rose and went out on the plat form. They were slowing into a pie turesque little town with green trees in sight of the depot and big, sprawly southern homes, white and green in the sunlight.
 Was that Alicef -s.-
 Yes, there on the lower step of the coach ahead of him she stood, with an impatienee barely hidden by her quiet manner. waiting for the train to stop. She was smiling. oh. so brightly, and the train had scarcely come to a stand sdll before she had sprung down and was running across the platform to meet .... .----.
 Allyn Hardin could not believe his own eyes. tEs" @E4. S -s
 A little girl with brown legs flashing bare above low socks and face left bare by the bonnet that hung about her neck. rejecting the brightness he had seen on Aliee's, came rushing down the platform too. With a shriek of joy she threw herself into Alice's open arms.
 The whistle blew again. Alice was moving or with & young man and wo- man who had joined her.
 Miss Ellison! How do you dor'
 Alice turned about quickly.
 -Oh," she gasped, ''I thought you were in Wisconsin," She moved to- ward the train. not losing hold of the little hand that Lay in hers.
 "I could not get off. Wish had known yeu were aboard"-the train was moving. '-Goodby, goodby."
 Bon voyage" called Alice. Then, bending toward the child, Wave by by to MT. Hardin"
 A sunburned little hand clawed she air. and Alice, raising her head. looked up at Allyn They both laughed.
 On the rest of that northbound trip all that Allyn saw was little country railroad station, with Its usual motley setting. Standing forth from it all were the same two figures. the Madon- na and the child-one in gown of softly clingIng blue. the other in ruffied white apron
 The two weeks visit to her brother came to an end, and the train was fast drawing Alice Ellison away from the sweet peace of the country into the rush and whirl of that old life in the city. Leaning back in her chair, dreamily looking out of the window, she came to the conclusion that she was tired of herself. "5r9
 She sighed and rose wearily. Sway ing with the motion of the car, she made her way toward the Pulhzsans. It was October; perhaps she might find some of her friends returning to the city. Pausing a moment on the threshold of the sleeper, she looked down the red plush aisle. sr#
 A few feet in front of her a man was seated, with his back turned toward her. He had light hair, just Ike Mir. Hardin's," and standing on the seat beside him was Q little child The ear mrched. and the little fellow swayed, only to be caught by a strong arm that threw him downward. Then the mans head darted down, and Alice smiled at the screams of childish laughter.
 Sha watched them f0P A moment.