The Springfield herald., 1908-12-18
| 1t as II 1t were fraught with memories,
instead Of merely recalling them.

sald, What man he must be now
81 tonight. But was thinking, when
bought this. of the time when he
was such little yellow-haired toddler,
and almost drove us wild with Just
such horn as this at Christmas
time"
She took the horn from him, and
looking dreamily at it, said: Wen
keep this. father; maybe Jacks boy
VIII some time make these old walls
ring with 1t at Christmas time as he
made them ring, himself, so many
years ago."
God grant that he may!" said the
old man. DO you remember, mother,
how he used to come chasing down
the street after me when would start
off to my work In the morning?"
Yes, and how you would pick him
up and carry him back to me-" she
said. And do you remember the time
we came near losing him, the day he
ran away to hunt you in the city?"
Who that saw you then could for
get 1t. mother?" and he took her hand
in his and drew her down to the chair
beside him. They sat hand in hand
in the silence. given over to voiceless
memories of the past. only the ticking
of the old clock keeping an accom-
paniment to their dreams of other
/ Christmas Ewes. They were sitting
thus an hour later when a servant
opened the door and said, respectful
ly: There is telephone call for Mr..
Wellington"
orft9' tHO
old man asked. loath to leave his COM
Portable chair and dreams.
NO. sir. 1t is especially for you. A
long-distance call, think"
who the deuce wants to talk to me
from a distance" he said, as he rose
and went to the telephone in the hall.
Hello, who is this?" he asked, as
he picked up the receiver. Yes, this
is John Wellington"
"A party in Chicago wants to talk
to you," said the long;distance oper-
ator.
"All right. put him up. Who in
thunder do I know in Chicago" he
calculated to himself, pressing the re-
ceiver closer to his ear
A peculiar wailing sound was all he
heard. and puzzled expression crept
over his face. Talk a little louder.
1 can't understand a thing you are
saying" and he listened more intent
ly. The wailing grew little louder,
but still it was nothing but an inartic-
ulate wall, and for moment the old
man looked thoroughly disgusted.
"Confound it," he shouted at last.
you sound exactly like a mewling in
fant. l don't know what you are say
Ing"
Then mans laugh was heard. fol-
lowed by "a merry Christmas, father.
You know exactly what he sounds
like, but you don't know what he is
saying" and there was another laugh,
ringing joyful, as in his boyhood days,
and the old man knew he had found
his own.
Jack, Jack. my boy, is that you?"
he shouted, staggered by the unex-
pected Joy of his sudden discovery.
None other. father, but what you
just heard was another Jack. the sec
ond Jack Wellington. Jr. He has just
arrived. and his command of English
is somewhat limited. but he was doing
his best to introduce himself, and in
vite you and grandma. to Christmas
dinner with him, and"
"Oh, Jack, Jack, where have you
been all these years?" sobbed the
old man.
Catch the Lake Shore Limited to-
night, father. bring mother with you.
and I'll tell you all about 1t when you
get here. You've got time: You see.
father. I've kept track of you and
mother all along. l wasn't going to
let anything happen to the old folks.
and" there was a catch in his voice.
I've got the right kind of a report to
make, father. Never fear that"
himself as he listened, pressing the re-
ceiver closer and closer to his ear, as
though he feared some bit of the
precious news might escape him.
Then he shouted: "All right. son.
we're coming on the next train" He
left the receiver dangling on the wall.
and started on a run to the room
where his wife sat. shouting as he
went: Mother, mother. it's Jack
our boy. Get ready, mother. I'm 60
ing to have cab here in 20 minutes
to catch the train for Chicago" She
had risen with wild look on her face,
and had started to question him, but
he shook his head. saying: No, no.
I'll explain later. Not got time now.
We're going to spend Christmas with
Jack and his boy"
He started for the phone again,
and then dashed back, exclaiming:
Pack the tin horn II you don't pack
another thing. Any child that can cry
loud enough to be heard all the way
from Chicago ought to have breath
enough to blow that horn." and he
dashed again to the phone to order a
cab.
Was Already Supplied.
The dealer In Japanese art store