Middletown transcript., 1904-08-27
BY BEN H1INs


reached his hand up on the higl shoulder
when the tall man, putting one arm
about him, stopped down and-yes-,
| lie did
Horace's face beamed, as lie watched
the happy comrades walk along together
and then look Of bitter sadness over
| wlelmed it. But, in spite ~ the latter
emotion, never day passed but that
hour found him watching from behind
the curtains, and always came that hum
CRY look over his face as he turned away.
One day, instead Of leaving the win
| dow, Horace continued to look down
the street minute after minute He
seemed to be in fever OF excitement.
At last the electric light on the corner
began to glow, and an instant later he
ran for the door and started down the
steps with glad smile. His father
reached their foot almost as soon as the
boy
"Why, Horace Y said Mr.. Gilmore,
sternly. "What are you doing out in
this wind with your hat off? Go straight
in the house and don't let me see you
do that again-it will be the doctor to
pay nextp' Horace turned and followed
his father in with shamefaced manner
and dropping head. His heart felt like
lead, and there was burning spot on
| each cheek-it had all been SO different
from what he had meant it should!
So Horace could only longingly look
on, from distance, at the happiness
Of another. But one day he saw some-
thing that gave him an idea 1t was
quite early in the morning, and the tall
man with the, kind face had just de-
scended the steps and started down the
street when voice stopped him.
"Oh, papa, wait a minute r the boy
called, as he ran after him, and reaching
up, he pinned a red carnation on the
lapel Of the tall mans coat. Both looked
very happy, and-tlat was not all that
Horace saw.
Mrs. Gilmore was preparing to go out
that afternoon, when Horace spied four
red carnations in vase on her table.
Mamma" he said eagerly, Cant |
have one OF those y
'What for, dear?'
"Oh, just wanted it."
"TIere are only four now," she an
swered, "and will want all Of those to
wear. You do not need any today
Horace said nothing, but happening in
the room an hour later, he saw one OF the
red carnations in the waste basket in the
corner. The stem had broken off SO short
that Mrs. Gilmore would not think Of
wearing it.
"But men always wear them shorter"
said the delighted boy to himself as he
picked it up tenderly, placed it in water,
and hid it away safely.
And so it was that another boy ran
after his father the next morning, with a |
"Wait minute, papa!" He, too, reach
ed up to pin the flower ou.
"Did your mother say you might have
itp' his father asked.
"No."
s'You ought to have asked her." 1t |
was said more from force Of habit than
else, but what difference did
that make in its effect? The boy was en-
barassed, and consequently clumsy and
slow. Just as he had at last gotten it
fast a car whirled past the corner on
the cross street below.
"There, now Y Mr.. Gilmore exclaimed
.'you have made me lose
my car Y lie did not see the crushed
look on the small face as the words sank
in, and moment after he wished that
he had left them unsaid, but he did not
say SO, and of what good was the wish ri
The sore-hearted boy rushed into the
house, threw himself on the hall settee
and hid his head in his arms SO that
no one could see him. He did not mean
%, but the tears would come. He had
meant to please his father, SO that
md he had only vexed him by causing
lim to miss his car
II don't believe Horace is WE'LL" said
Mrs. Gilmore to her husband one day
several weeks after tEis had occurred.
lie mopes around go.'
''Send him out with Matilda for a
walk occasionally" Mr.. Gilmore sug-
yested.
"Oh, it is such bad weather." she
"These March days are SO
unpleasant, either cold, or damp, or
windy"
But, though the walks did not mater
allze, Horace soon began to seem better.
he was as pale as ever, but he moped
no more. lie was intensely interested
in something, and all Of his spare mo-
ments found him in the unused attic,
where, with pocket knife, lie was busily
i'll carving some object from
a dark-colored piece Of wood Ills fin
gers were perennially tied up, from too
close contact with his knife, but lie
rather gloried III the cuts, for each one,
it seemed to him, but added value to
the gift that be was preparing SO labor
iously.
At last the great day came. 1t was
and he could hardly wait for
evening to arrive. But dinner was over
at last, and they were all in the library.
The boy sat very quiet in the sofa corner
with something hidden behind him.
The newspaper seemed interminable that
night. At last Mr.. Gilmore laid it down,
and then happened just what Horace
had hoped-it happened SO often. 81
must write letter tonight" his father
said then, after looking around mo-
ment III vain search, "Why where il
my ink stand, Laura ?''
Here it i, papa" said Horace, before
bis mother lad time to reply, coming
forward all a-tremble with excitement
and glad anticipation. Then lie placed