The Caucasian. (Shreveport, La.) 1900-192?, 1910-08-07

MY FATHER.
you properly in this,8xtraordinary sit
uatiOn but it might have been more
kind to- give you a bit Of information
first. My name is Harold Latimer. /
an doctor, bachelor, ball player
and an amateur ballOOnist, like your
self, having just made my first ascen~
sion. | am six feet tall and weigh POO
pounds except when | fall out Of Il
balloon as did just now; then l weigh
a ton"
Where is it?' she said, with shud-
der
"'The balloon?" said l. ''It is gone
wrecked, fear, but that's my fault.
for | should have fastened it. l viii
assume the financial responsibility for
its loss. Who owned it,"
"'Father," said she. 1T was a very
old one. l am glad it is gone. I don't
want any one I care for to go up in
one again"
IF we should become friends said
], $50 that might be included in the
suburbs of that wish, SO to speak, you
have my promise that | will not navi.-
gate the air. Once is enough for me. p
And then ] told her how she had
come sailing across the field and how
the good beech tree which was now
our roof against the storm had stood
in her path so that she might come to,
no hurt
my name is Lucy Calderwood," sain
she
John Calderwood's daughter.' ! en-,
| claimed. why, ] remember him.
| say him make an ascent from this
| very field fifteen years ago or more. I
| would have given the tip of my ear
| to go up with him then, but prudence
| comes to us with age. l have not
| heard of him lateIy.''
He gave up ballooning for some
| years until recently" said she. There,
is so much of it now in the papers that
| he took it up again, hoping to make
| SOME money"
| She proceeded to tell me that the
| Fourth of July committee of Stockton.
| had offered her father a good sum for
an ascent and that she had received IL
/ just before leaving the earth's surface
with very little hope of returning tG-
it alive, / judged-and that she hadl
sent the money home by her small!
| brother, who was present But why
she had done this suicidal act she.
would not say. 1t was not for the
mere money.
/ The rain was now over, and she.
/ walked with me to the house of my
father, where then lived. My father
| is rock ribbed Yankee and imper.
| vious to surprises, but my mother is
| southern woman bred in the extreme
| of conventionality. Her emotions at
| sight of her son coming home at 2 in
the morning with very beautiful girl
whom he had met in manner so ir>
| regular l leave to the Imagination.
Now, the rest of this is love story,
| and | have no art to tell that sort of
| tale Moreover, it ran very smoothly
and might seem tame in print There
| is, however, a mystery to be cleared
| up. and here is the fact about it.
John Calderwood had become a
drunkard-not steady topper. but Il
victim of periodical sprees. Under the
luuuEHCE Vi Il4uUL, UiI liiC dLICII bDl u
| July 3, he had stolen assHm Of money
| from bis employer in an absurdly open
manner. For this offense he was ar
rested on the morning of the Fourth,
or been robbed Of it.
There was but one way to return
that money, and Lucy took that way.
She gave her life for it, as l may
fairly declare. She sent it by her
brother to her fathers employer, a
kindly person whom l have seen turn
pale at the mere mention OF this oc-
| turrence.
John Calderwood was released, ana
| If there is d man on earth who can lie
depended upon to go to his grave with
out touching liquor again l think my
recently acquired father-in-law is that
! man