The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1908-09-25

tombstone. The clock had struck
II, and the neighborhood of Little
Minister was wrapped in slumber. A
light wind ruffled the grass and blew
toolingly on Mr.. Burrows worried
brow, as he shifted his hat to the
Jack of his head. Now and again
DE moon emerged and lighted up the
Feather beaten gravestones. Directly
b front Of Mr.. Burrows a greenland
White slab recorded the decease of
pne John Podgers.
wish 1t was me-" said the un-
happy wanderer. Il might as well be
lead for all can see."
Now, this was taking a pessimistic
view of affairs. True, Dick Burrows
bad cause to be down in the mouth !;
but not to that extent. Other men
have invented things, to find that an
unappreciative world received them
with derision, and have got up and
Invented something else that made
the world laugh on the other side of
its face, so to speak. Possibly Dick
would do the same later on; at pres
ent it was fresh in his mind that the
|ast firm of any Importance had re-
burned his patent collar stud.
He got up from his hard bench
and looked moodily over the low
churchyard wall. A panorama of
fne country was spread before him,
1otted with stately villas. The moon
lit roofs seemed to fash insultingly
pit Mr. Burrows, and jeer at him for
presuming to think that his miserable
Dollar stud would bring such reward
ts their won coziness. He turned
* from them to the sacred and solid
edifice of the church. He wanted
quiet, to think it out and get over it.
Mr.. Burrows tried the door, and.
20 his surprise, found it open. This
was strange, and he expected to find
somebody inside. To all appearances,
nobody was there; the place was still
As the grave, as we'll it might be,
considering its juxtaposition to so
many of them.
The disappointed inventor tiptoed
his way through the moonlit interior,
4 thankful for the calm shelter. Even
Iually he ensconced himself in a quiet
corner, with his feet at full length
On seat. If he could not find rest
and consolation here, where in the
. world would he find it?
Mr.. Burrows had been Illuminating
Tor some time when a sound dis
urbed him. 1t was a metallic sound.
and was followed by the light noise
'f somebody dropping on to the tiled
door of the church. A careful in
Testigation revealed an open window,
with dark form beside it, and an
other in the aperture. Mr.. Burrows
guessed at once that these intruders
we're after the sacred property of the
'hurch, and he was right. He could
aot help smiling at their having taken
The trouble to force a window, when
The door stood open.
Naturally Mr.. Burrows dismissed
his own private affairs for the time
and concerned himself with the new
somers. He replaced his legs on the
seat and listened. Stealthy, shutting
footsteps came in his direction.
Il don't like 1t, Bill" said a whis:
pered voice; 1t reminds me O. the
time when used ter go ter Sunday
school-when l was kid"
"Lummy," said Bill, in the same
cautious tone, "you amt art cough.
drop. Dyer s'pose / likes it? It's
oof we wants"
The inventor concluded from this
that there was "oof" somewhere in
tie vicinity. The inhabitants of the
stately villas attended St. Mary's in
large numbers, so probably there was
Apparently the nervous intruder
stood in the rear while Bill recon
noitered. Mr.. Burrows sat quite still
convinced that he was safely
screened.
"Wot ave yer found, Bill?" said :
voice. Bill having been quiet for {
short period, the natural suppositiol
was that he had made a discovery.
Bottle O. something good" sale
Bill. Come and ave drop. AIRY.
The tempting smack of Bits lip
was too much for Harry. and he pro
ceeded to approach nearer.
= Didn't know they KEEP sperrits il
a church." he whispered.
'Tain't sperrits, said Eill. 'Av,
a swig."
Mr.. Burrows could not see the in
truders, but he imagined that BIZ
had generously pressed the bottl
upon his companion, judging by hi
earnest exhortation to him not t,
drop it.
Il don't think I will, mate" sal,
AIRY solemnly. II b'lieve it's wo
they calls oily wine. I won't 'av
none, old man."
1t would have been interesting t
see Bills face. if the pregnant silenc
that followed was Of any ACCOUNT.
Oily wine?" said Bill at last
~Carn't belts too good"
It's wot they calls sakerid," sal
the nervous AIRY. Don't you touc
no more. old pal. 1t won't do yer n
good"
There was more meaning in thi
advice than Bill supposed, but he wa
100 hardened to take it In any bu
a literal sense.
i won't" he replied; there ain
none left"
1t ought to have struck Mr.. BSl
rows at this point that here was
wavering creature being dragged int
q crime for which he had no fasta 9