News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1905-03-29

' panied. Have l said anything to nurl
your"
NO" replied Jack. But didn't
think you would have a fling at me for
what | said incautiously to Hunston
If did not know my mother, is it my
fault?"
Certainly not; it is your misfor-
tune
81 have a firm belief that she is
alive, and that | shall see her some
day."
Il did not mean any harm; you know
me too well to think that" said Fisher.
''Sit down and talk to me; you are
little upset. You will be yourself
presently. You are my friend, you
know, Jack-my dearest friend on
earth, except my father and mother,
because you saved my life"
Jack was very much attached to his
young friend. If he went out fishing,
he brought him the choicest fish that he
caught, and he purchased things for
him in the town, as far as his slender
stock of pocket money would allow
him. But no amount of kindness could
avert the unavoidable end. The seeds
of disease were sown in the boys slen-
der Frame and as the leaves of autumn
began to fall, the time came for him to
die. His parents We're constant in their
attendance at his side and their pres
ence, especially that of his mother
seemed to soothe him. At last they
had to tell him that there was no hope
and it was done as gently and deli
cately as possible. He folded his hands
with resignation, and prayed for
moment.
Then he murmured. Goods will be
done"
Turning to his mother, he added as
he put Jacks hand in hers:
when l am gone, mamma, you will
have no child. This is my friend. He
has been q friend to me ever since he
came to the school, and he has no
mother. Will you let him be your boy
in my place and care for him because
l loved him even as David loved iona
thanY
Mrs. Fishers sobs choked her utter
ance, and her tears fell fast.
Speak to me, mamma, dear" ex-
claimed the boy.
Yes, it shall be as you WISH" re-
piled his mother, pressing Jacks hand.
This was the sufferers last request,
the compliance with which on the part
of his mother gave him great relief.
Before the boys returned from the
holidays he was gone, and there was
mourning in his fathers house.
Little boy" said Mrs. Fisher to
what my poor, dear Frank said and
my reply. | will try to think of you
as | did of him., but not yet. The
wound is too fresh. l must have time
to reflect, but remember that / am
your friend My husband and | are
rich, and something shall be done for
your advancement in life. | would
have you home with me now, but | am
too wretched. Perhaps you cannot I'M
derstand my feelings Try to think |
mean well and am not unkind. In
few months | will come and see you
again, and you shall tell me all about
yourself, and | will adopt you if you
would like that. At present am too
wretched to think of anything but my
own selfish grief. Oh, Frank, Frank,
it is hard to have you taken from
mel"
She Wrung her hands in agony.
Remember, ma'am," said Jack in
low tone. what he said in his last mo-
ments 1t was not his will he wished
done"
True, my dear" she answered, "but
you can't tell what a mother feels
when she loses her only darling" And
her tears burst out afresh.
Mrs. Fisher went away, and Jack
was glad when the time came for work
once more. In the hustle of school life
he could forget the deathbed of poor
Fisher