The Salt Lake tribune. [volume] (Salt Lake City, Utah) 1890-current, 1909-12-26

"IIoorav!' shouted Terry in greet.
ing, but the little face WAS turned res
olutoly away and the lips did not move.
Where s Sin!f demanded Meters. as
the stranger descended from the stage.
cover at the chute, answered
Terry.
And both The wimmcn Ia2yin' as
usual, | suppose
Never mind. interrupted the man
roughly. You can give me hand.
can Z you2''
Meters, climbing down from his high
scat, took from the top of The stage a
thing, half-stretchcr, half-rrclining
chair. On this they put the little Grip
pied lad and carried him into the dim
ing room Of the boarding house.
FOld Sin ought to be here. Grum.
blcd the driver " Where's your
mother?" he asked. turning to Maggie,
his voice roughencd by sympathy for
his accomplishing little passenger.
"Shc ain Z my MOTHER Terry sald,
sotto yocc, hui aggrcss,ycly. my
mother S in heaven.
"Mrs. q 'Byrne 5 AT the cabin, an
swcred Maggie, looking at the little
boy with hungry motherly eyes. - But
she ain t much good, Meters. | can do
more than she can
6. Ny mothers in heaven, too, half
WHl>Dtlt'l Iut Enlll bu tIlf Cudll. IHiS
bond Of sympathy seeming 10 draw him
toward the touscled little girl, Melers
answered Terry s challenge, but spoke
TO the stranger,
"The boys right. Their own mother
is dead, and he married this one last
spring guess she ain Z much good. -
Then in response TO Maggie 5 woman
" interest. he added:
"ThIs is Mr.. Harris, Bob Harris. He s
come TO work al the mills. aud he's
going to live in The empty cabin under
the slide. Perhaps you can help him
some.
But Mr., Harris took no notice of
Maggie He was unloading packs and
bundles from the back Of the stage, and,
shouldering all he could carrT, nc
started of in The direction OF tho old
slide, where dilapidated cabin pre-
scented anything but an inviting as
poet Meters. with n shrug, picked up
some of the blankets and bedding, and
Terry dragging n couple of tin buckets,
followed in the duslty wake Of the men.
But Maggie stood by the cripple, and.
later. when the men carried him, stu
on his chair, to his new home. She
walked beside him n little too shy To
talk, but wanting 10 protect and com
fort him.
This was the beginning of Bob Har
ris s life at Hogan s mills. 1t was not
an cvcnttul existence at best, but the
child had learned that patient waiting
was his part i'm whatever life sur
rounded him. and ne found no more
fault with tho things at Hogan s than
he had in the big city full OF people
where he had lived before, In fact,
he was happier now, because the two
little O'BvrBes were with him con
stnntly. He had gained access to their
inner hearts, and, when he had per
sistentiy rejected Mrs, q 'Byrne s SEN
iimcntal sympathy and old Mrs.
Monaghau's loud voiced pity, he was
left 10 himself and the children. All
day long they played in hlS cabin while
his silent, morose father worked AT the
mill Maggie gave HIM his dinner, and
through the long mornings and after
moons thcy invented Quiet games III
which he could Join while he told them
tales Of the outside world INTO winch
they had never ycntured:
Bob, who WAS almost nine years old,
could read. Maggie could read. TOO, IN
a faltering laboriOus way, hut tho
words as she spclled them out failed
10 produce the brilliant pictures wrought
! by Bob s olibber tongue. Terry, who
was only seven, did not know one letter
from another, lie had no books; no
pictures. no possessions Of amy KIND
save only one, but that one was Sc. mar
veIous. so wonderful, that 1t made up
stone mortar uuearthcd from some old
Indian camp. but the stone pcstlG had
beeu found close at hand, and Terry
had bccu The finder. To his small mind
these were. indeed, treasures. He Sc.
cretod them, no one knew where: took
them ont 10 exhibit them Ia Maggie,
sometimes 10 please her, sometimes 20