The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1908-12-31

cent money, | could send Carrie a bit
every month. 49,
With silent feet he went toward the
door and opened it, The chill morning
air seemed to rob him of courage. Seated
by the fire in the pleasant warmth, flight
had seemed an easy matter. The future
had appeared equally simple. But the
inhospitable air of the dawn seemed to
bid him 90 back rather than forward
He mastered the impulse, and went
down the stone stairs that led to the
street. Then he walked rapidly along
Gray's Inn-road toward Kings Cross.
At a coffee stall he bought some food.
1t revived him, and he felt inclined to
smile as he pictured his wife's wonder
ment and rage when he failed to come
home.
At Euston he was told that there
would not be a train for an hour. He
sat down in the great booking hall. How
strange it seemed to be there At that
hour he was usually on his way to work
Already sense of freedom was begin
ming to hold his being. He felt elated
and surprised at the same time.
A bookstall boy entered the booking
hall on his way to the platform. Some
thing in the youngsters face recalled the
face of Archie. A slight pang took hold
of Huxtable's heart. He wondered why
he had not thought about the children
before. At least he might have contrived
to take last look at them previous to
his leaving the house. He felt very an
noyed at his neglect.
1t would be hard on them, losing their
father, he reflected, very hard. Their
mother meant little to them, but for him
they had always love and tenderness.
He remembered how he had promised to
take both boys to Battersea park that
afternoon, it being the Saturday half
holiday. And now-how now?
Well, he knew just what he was doing
He was running away from them and
from his responsibilities, like a thief in
the night, fleeing from Justice Grad
ually his memory would slip from their
childish brains. The day would come
when the word father would convey
nought to them save shadowy recoi-
lection.
What would be their future. now that
he was gone? Surely the streets would
claim them, and the foul influences of
the slum would bear them down into
the depths. Had not his wife said that
he alone could keep them from crack
and ruin?"
He rose and paced the gloomy hall, in
dom was beginning to seem a thing of
mixed good. 1t certainly had its evil
side His wife could manage well
enough without him, but the children
ah, they were different.
He was a coward now, and he was
afraid of the future. The future seemed
dark and terrible. Within it's awful
grasp there lay the destiny of those two
little ones whom he loved Conscience
awoke in him, and stirred all the fear
that fingered in his blood.
A man in uniform touched him on the
shoulder.
''The booking office is open now,
mate" he said kindly. "The train goes
in fifteen minutes"
Huxtabe looked up with start.
Thanks, ole man." he said absently,
but he did not go toward the window
where one booked for the north. He
sought the street instead, and climbed
on a bus going eastward. It deposited
him at the gates of the factory where
he worked, and he was just in time to
slip through the door and save himself
being shut out till dinner time. =
In the afternoon he went home with
his wages, and with boat which he
had bought for the children to sail on
the pond in the park. Mrs. Huxtable
greeted him in her usual acid manner.
''You never came to bed last night, !"
she said. "'Pon my word, think you
must be goin' off your head. What was
you doin'?"
Il was just thinkin', that's all, he re-
piled, nervously.
"Thinkin' Much good that did you,
I expect. Thinkin' of how you could
upset me, I daresay"
Huxtable shook his head and smiled
The two boys were standing close by,
eagerly discussing the question of navi-
CATION as they handled the little boat.
eff we was in the boat, and fell out,
dad would save us, wouldn't you, dad ~
murmured Jackie, aged 6, 'for you're
awful brave. know"
Huxtable laughed gently.
"Your father 'ud be too much of a
coward for that" snarled the mother
But he only laughed again.
tits good to be coward sometimes, y
he said huskily. tits better for them
as we love. *''-Philip Beaufoy in
the Manchester Chronicle.