The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1907-05-20


don't you think? We all of US had
friends once-in another world as il
seems TO me-but if any of us like to
remember we had them surely it's that
mans business and not ours. He's a
better man than most of US, and his
letters the last thing that we should
meddle with. We wouldn't have done
ft once, and we won't now" His tenn
perate tone surprised himself. but IL
merely showed how every sensibility
had lost its edge. Two months ago he
would have argued such a point with
his ready hands.
Meanwhile the reader had decided
not to fight. being an insufficient num-
Ter of inches bigger and broader than
Tom and having still in his ears the
thud with which the scourger fell.
But neither was he going to give In
like n man. because men were scarce
in those heavy irons. Accordingly he
retained the letter n little longer be-
fore handing it to Tom, with a mock
ing bow.
1--WE won't. won't we?" he sneered.
''Well. as it 'appens. we won't. for
more of that rot / couldn't read IL l
was paid. But you look out, my spe-
cial, If you've come ERE to give your
Eelf airs, We'll soon learn We. It's lucky
for you I'm in such Il good temper or
you'd have gone off this table bit diff
ferent. you blighted young upstartr'
Tom had in fact taken his chains I'm
his hands and jumped off. 1t was
when he was on the ground, with his
back turned. that the direct abuse was
10
and added their maledictions to his.
yet the group about Butter for so the
poor lad was called dispersed at Toms
approach. and he returned the letter to
Ats writer with look that might have
made his guardian angel dry her tears.
for after many days there WAS kind
ness In his eyes once more
Here, Butter he said; take 1t. and
for Gods sake not a word. You're a
better man than / am or you wouldn't
have written at all. There, shut up!
Gratitude. forsooth. If you must show
some. don't set me thinking"
But the lads emotions were aroused
too thoroughly to be soon allayed.
They had the corner now to them
selves. and he was crying like a girl.
Tom envicd him his tears.
Read 1t through sobbed the young
fellow. forcing the torn letter upon his
champion, and to please him Tom pc
rused 1t from beginning to end
Awhile ago it would have made him
laugh and cry; now he read it unnoyed
save by his own Indifference. 1t con- /
tanned a touching lie, describing the
writer as being still very happy with
the master who months since had sent i
him to the iron gang. The rest was a /
wondrous jumble-.and / inform you
that snaiks Is very bad in this country. [
We Outlines see them fourteen to fit I
teen feet long. Parrots is as thick az
crows in your country. kangaroos, too
and it is night here when it is day
there. but Arthur Smith. do not know
where he Is Mutton Is Id h.. beef
But he had written no farther. and
Tom said: Thank you. Butter. 1t
should make them happy as he re-
turned the letter. He felt that he
ought to be touched, and he was not
His heart seemed turned TO stone when
suddenly he felt il quicken.
The lad had simply said. my name
Isn't Butter. it's Butterfeld''
"a Yorkshireman? You talk like
one CTleu ION. Win u most n3lnfuI
fash OF memory. Once more he was
n lucky. hopeful. penitent sinner in a
sweet smelling wagon on a night in
spring with Blaydes' watch ticking no
warning in his pocket and with vivid
mental picture OF Blavdes himself smiI-
ing wistfully across the stile, beside
which he was even then lying dead.
Ave" said young Butterheld. poor
pid Yarasaire. 1 doubt I'll ever see II
sgain. sIy folks have left there an
all"
Tom had more flashes He was get
ting used to them now.
Where did they move to-
a little place they call Hendon,
an it was me that drove 'em there by
getting into trouble. Oh. 1t was me
iisgraeed them all and drove them
away
Tom let him talk. but said little more
IN return. 1t was Jonathan Butter !