The Owosso times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1897-1926, 1906-05-25


an a good heart in him."
The old man paused.
II should not think it possible" said
Trove who was at the age OF certainty
IN his opinions and had long been
trained to the Incorporating thought
Of the Puritan. "A man who steals
can have no honor in him."
"Ho. Charityw said the clock tinker.
turning as If to address one behind
him. sweet Charity, attend upon this
boy. Mayhap. sir" he continued meek
ly, "God hath blessed me with little
knowledge o. what is possible, but l
speak of time before guilt had sored
him. He was officer of great bank
let us say in Boston. Some thought
him rich, but he lived high an princely,
an / take 1t, sor, his income was no
greater than his needs. 1t was proud
race he belonged to-grand people they
were, all o. them, with houses an
lands an many servants. His wife
was dead, sor, an he'd one child-a
little lad O. two years an beautiful.
One day the boy went out with his
nurse, an where farther nobody knew.
He never came back. Up an down,
over an across. they looked for him
night an day, but were no wiser. A
month went by an not sight or sign
O. him, an their hope failed. One day
the father he got MOTEL remember
reading 1t in the papers, sor-an' 1t was
call for ransom money-$10O,000."
"Kidnapedw Trove exclaimed, with
much interest.
''He was, sor," the clock tinker re-
sumed. 1.-THE father he was up to his
neck in trouble then, for he was unable
to raise the money. He had quarreled
with an older brother, whose help
would have been sufficient. Well, God
save us all, twas the old story O. pride
an bitterness! He sought no help O.
him. A year an half passes an
gusty night O. midwinter the bank
burns. Books, papers, everything is
destroyed. Now the poor man has lost
his occupation. A week more an his
good name Is gone. A month an he's
homeless. A whisper goes down the
long path o. gossip. Was he a thief an
had he burned the records O. his crime?
The scene changes, an let me count the
swift, relentless years."
The old man paused moment, look
ing up thoughtfully.
"Well, say ten or mayhap a dozen
passed, or more or less it matters lit
tie. Boy an man, where were they?
Oh, the sad world, sor! To all that
knew them they were as people buried
in their graves. Think o. this drown
ing in the flood O. years-the stately
ships sunk an rotting in Oblivion.
Some word Of 1t, sor, may well go into
thy book"
The tinker paused moment, light
ing his pipe, and after puff or two
went on with the tale.
"It is a winter day in great city.
There are buildings an crowds an
busy streets an sleet in the bitter
wind. l am there, an me path is one
o. many crossing each other like-well,
sor, like lines on a slate. If thou vert
to make 10000 O them an both
eyes shut. / am walking slowly, an
10, there is the banker. l meet him
face to face-an ill clad, haggard, cold.
forgotten creature. l speak to him.
"The blessed Lord have mercy on
thee said.
"'For meeting theeT said the poor
man. What is thy nameT
"'Roderick Darrell
"'An' L. said he sadly, 'am one o.
the lost in hell. Art thou the devil?'
"'Nay, this hand o. mine hath open
ed thy door an BACKED thy boots for
thee often said l. 'Dost thou not re-
"Dimly. 1t was a long time ago.
he answered.
eve said more, sor, but that is no
part O. the story. Very well! l went
with him to his lodgings-a little cold
room in a garret-an' there, alone with
me, he gave account of himself. He
had shoveled an dug an lifted an run
errands until his strength was low an
the weight Of his hand a burden. What
hope for him? What way to earn a
living?
"'Have courage, man. said to him.
Thou shalt learn to mend clocks. It's
light an decent work, an one may live
by 1t an see much o. the world
"There was an old clock, sor, in q
heap O. rubbish that lay In a corner. l
took it apart, and soon he saw the Of
fee Of each wheel an pinion an the
that stopped them an the
surgery to make them sound. tarried
long in the great city, an every even
ing we were together in the little room.
l bought him kit O. tools an some
brass, an we would shatter the clock
works an build them up again until
he had skill, sor, to make or mend.
"'Me good FRIEND said he one even
ing after we had been long time at
work, Il wish thou couldst teach me
how to mend broken life. For Gods
sake, help me! am fainting under a
great burden
"'What can dor said to him.
"Then, sor, he went over his story
with me from beginning to end. 1t was
an impressive, sacred confidence.
All, boy, it would be dishOnor to tell
thee his name-but his story, that /
may tell thee, changing the detail so
Il may never add a straw to his bur-
len I shall quote him In substance