Middletown transcript., 1906-10-20

fore she had time to- ans y en- ll
added I'm Deacon Given /
Freaaoua
Oh, yesl win yon come
i Il speak 70 mother She smiled
j little, as If she knew Bis errand
and somehow the smile did not
make the deacon feel 1t ease.
His constraint vanished, however,
the moment he saw Mrs.
|cheery face and heard
dial greeting
Seems as il I'd
years, Deacon G 8ssEd
SO much ab I spose
you're the Stroz gsst pillar ii The
church ever to Freedom
He niled brightly st this fat
tery and The church they both
i5yed was their theme for awhile.
Then he said bashfnlly;
/ s'pose Elder Pingreetol you
what my wishes are, Mrs. Dove
and ! must say now I've seen
you, / want you more than ] did
before.
Now, Deacon, I'd ought to have
told Elder Pingree right then
and there that ! couldn't think Of
such a thing, but when be told.
| me about you being so lonesome,
my heart went out to you, and I
thought perhaps it was my duty
to help you live in your old home
again.
So it is, said the deacon quick
"; I'm sure Of that, and you shall
have a good home, too; every.
things Just as handy in the house.
and You shall have every thing
you want. Why, III get you a
hired girl, ard you sha'n't turn.
your hand to a mite Of work!
She laughed softly. I've been
turning my hands ever sence !
can remember, and I wouldn't
feel natural if they were idle.
But, you see, my daughter isn't
willing, and ! don't feel as if +
could leave my old home and
friends.
Deacon Given pleaded long and
earnestly, but Mrs. Dove re
mained firm. At last he turned
a sad face homeward. How
everything had changed since
morning. The sunlight still
sparkled on fields of stnbble. and
the woods were radiant with
autumnal glory, but the whole
world seemed bleak and cheer.
less to Deacon Given. He shiv-8
cred in response 10 the chill in
the air; the elation of the morn
ing was gone; its place depres-
sion every moment growing deep
er. He felt old. lonesome, for
saken. His head droppt d until
his chin almost touched his chest.
His horse trotted along rapidly,
making all the turns Of the long
drive from memory and not BY
guidance of The driver.
Why! Why! the deacon sud-
denly exclaimed, sitting upright.
Why. ! told d lie! Whoa, there, |
Dan. Whatever possessed me!
He looked around, as if seeking
some means Of escape from him
self, until his horse, impatient to
get home. started of his own ac-
cord, and, with loosely tapping
reins, carried his owner safely |
20 The stable door.
III take care Of your horse,
father; you 60 in and get warm;
its cold this evening. called Will
liam.
I don't care If you do, William;
I don I feel nigh SO brisk as did
this morning; I feel the weight
of years and sin terribly this
evening terribly.
60 right ID and get warm and
have your supper, and your age
will drop from your shoulders
and your sins from your imagi.
nation. William laughed lightly
as he spoke.
It's nothing to laugh at, Will
liam, was the stern reply.
He would not eat, but sat by
the FIRE, groaning and shivering.
amt sick, I amt sick, he kept
repeating. There's something
on my mind. II you will make
me q dose of cayenne tea, Il II take
it. Make it dretfdl fiery: onght
to have il so.
[ro BE coarINuEDl
THE Farm. GARDEN AND DAIRY