The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1908-12-12
WORTHLESS BOBBY.

Please, Mr.. Harro! Oh, please
try me a little longer. A week
just one week. Please, Mr.. Harro %
Mr.. Harro looked into the pleading
little face before him, and once more
the kind heart was touched and sof-
tened.
''I can't depend upon you Bobby,
that's the trouble; you neglect my
work. Understand, appreciate your
love for books, 1 am glad you love
them; but your first duty is to attend
to the business that 1 give you to do,
and you don't do it, Bobby you
know you DON'T"
"Oh, Mr.. Harro, I will try to be
good. Take my books away from
me, and try me just once more.
81 will not take your books from
you; that would be no test; but l
shall put you on your merit once
more, Bobby, and see what you will
do; but if there is no improvement,
it is your last chance-you will have
togo. You understand now, do your"
said Mr.. Harro, as he stepped into
the carriage.
Bobby turned away to hide the
tears, as Marion Harro, a sweet girl
of nineteen years, ran merrily down
The path and took the seat beside her
father.
"Well, Marion, that youngster has
gotten the best of me again, and /
have taken him another week on pro-
bation."
"Dear father, 1 am so glad"-her
face brightening-"I thought you
would give him another trial."
"What a tender heart you have,
dear; but 1 love you to be so; the
more of your sainted mother see in
your character the more I feel you
are developing into the highest type
of womanhood. Foster it, my dar.
ling; cultivate it; there are always
plenty to say the hard, sharp word,
and under cloak of frankness wound
even those whom they really love-"
They were driving along the beau-
tiful country road to the station, and
as they drow tip to the platform for
Mr.. Harro to alight, Marion put her
hand tenderly over his and said, ''Dear
father, 1 am trying to be like her."
"Surely, the mantle of the mother
has fallen upon the daughter re-
piled Mr.. Harro, with quivering
voice, land you will never know, my
darling, what hope and joy you bring
into your fathers life"
AS Marion drove liesurely home
her thoughts turned to Bobby. How
could she help him? He was one of
seven, his father was dead, and his
struggling mother trying to keep the
family together. They were honest
and respectable but very poor. Bob
by was thirteen. John, the eldest, a
boy of fifteen, had position in the
village grocery store, which was
great help to his mother. He was an
industrious, hard-working boy, but
Bobby did not love work, and would
shirk everything that he possibly
could to pore over his beloved books.
History, geology, anatomy, astrono-
my-he would read, and think and
wonder, though he could not under
stand. That, in fact, was the facina-
tion. He wanted to know about
things, and he knew there were men
in the world who did know, or these
books would never have been written.
Mr.. Harro, knowing how the boy
yearned for education, offered to take
him in his home, allowing him the
school privileges and paying him we'll
for doing chores about the place,
thereby laying some money aside for
his higher education, for it was very
plain that Bobby would never earn
living by the sweat of his brow.
Absolutely worthless !" was the
opinion nearly everybody had of poor
Bobby, and it was through much ap-
parent tribulation on their part that
Mr.. Harro and Marion were trying
to make something out of the boy.
He had been with them six months,
and Mr.. Harro, thoroughly discour-
aged, had threatened often to send
him back to his mother-only to be
won over every time either by the
stresss of the boy or the coaxing OF
his idolized daughter.
This was day early in November,
apd the light clouds that had lowered
around in the morning thickened and
gathered, and by noon rain was fall
ing. A great storm was upon them,
that hourly increased in its fury.
| Trembling hands were held on either
side of the anxious faces that peered
into what was already the darkness
of night as faithful John who acted as
coachman and man-of- -all-work about
the place, drove down the carriage
drive and out into the street on his
way to meet his master.
Two hours passed and they had
not returned. Marion walked rest
lessly about the house.
"Where is Bobby, Hannah" she
said, stopping at the kitchen door,
where the odor of the savory dinner
would have been most appetising had
it not been for the great anxiety for
her fathers safety.
"'Clar to goodness, Miss Marion, I
dun know SEEMS if dat boy don't
know 'nuff to come in out O. de rain.
He tok de lantern and went out to de
barn, an l just 'spects he's scared to
come back.
In the meantime John had safely
reached the station, and after waiting
a long time for the belated train, Mr..
Harro finally appeared at the carriage
door. The usually sluggish little
stream that ran between the home
and the station was a river. 1t had
risen until even with the bridge, and
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