The Glenwood post., 1912-05-04

gas burners.
81 might as well be warm once
he murmured. and settled back in his
uncomfortable chair to pass another
day in pain and loneliness.
1t is bad enough to be sick. even
in the midst of luxury, but to be
sick and poor, that is enough to
make man groan and writhe. Tom
Stevens, alone in the big city. too
proud to write back home and tell OF
his hard luck, looked at the gray
skies and the gay streets and wished
he were dead.
And just then he heard the rustic
Of paper, and, looking toward the
door, he saw that a note had been
slipped under it.
Painfully he crossed the room. and
painfully he returned to his big
chair. Then he opened the sheet of
of paper. Across the top was painted
wreath of tiny rosebuds, and un.
derneath was the verse:
There Is ever a song somewhere. my
Though the skies above be dark and
drear:
There is ever a song that our hearts
shall hear.
There is ever a song somewhere, my
dear.
There IL ever a song somewhere.
AS he read Tom felt as If the sun
were shining and the birds singing
on June day. Who had thought Of
him in his loneliness? Why. 1t was
better than food and drink-better
than fire and warmth.
Its girls handwriting" he said
to himself He felt as If he wanted
to get right up and hunt for her. but
when he tried to move he sank
back with groan, and the little
neighborhood doctor. coming in. eau
toned him.
The next morning the janitor's
wife brought him his meager meal.
1t was sloppy and badly cooked and
Tom turned from 1t with sigh. So
the janitor's wife carried the tray. but
left crack In the door.
And it was through this crack, an
hour later, was slipped tiny tray.
On 1t was steaming cup Of coffee,
two slices of hot toast, and soft
boiled egg.
Tom, making for the door, threw
it wide open and faced an empty
hallway. He dragged himself to the
apartment across the way and
knocked. The janitor passing through
the hall, asked curiously: Did you
want any help, sir?"
who lives in there?" Tom de,
manded
IAN old man and his wife" said
the janitor. And he works and she
works"
Tom sighed and went back to find
on the tray little note:
Little Tommy Tucker sings for his sup
per.
What shall he sing for. white bread and
Tom ate the toast and the egg,
drank the coffee and laid the note
carefully away in his bill book with
the one which had come the day be-
fore.
Just wait till I'm WE'LL" he muir.
INJURED.
He resolved that he would watch
the door and lie in wait
But I wonder-when she'll come, u
was his eager thought.
The day passed, and the night was
we'll advanced, when Tom. still lying
awake, heard in the hall little
sound He sat up and listened, and
suddenly he was aware of light
shining under the door, Gathering
hts dressing gown about him, he rose
from his couch, opened the door and
looked out On the threshold was a
lighted candle in an old-fashioned can
dlestick Tied to the handle was q
card, and on the card was written:
How far that little candle throws
his beams 30 shines good deed in 9
naughty world"
Tom went back to bed, and labori
| ously made his stiff fingers pen his
sentiments:
Dear Lady Bountiful: can't write
poetry, but l can say in plain, every
day words how grateful l am. And how
1 wish-but, you know what 1 wish
that Fate will not be unkind and tina,
some day-when you will it-that
may see you, and tell you what is 1,
not easy to say adequately on pa
per"
He signed 1t Tommy Tucker" ant
put it in the hall and shut the door
And when an hour later he opened tn.
door the note was gone.
AHA" said Tom to himself, She's
not far away. and that's something
to think about"
After a time there came a quicl
tap tap" and Tom got out of hii
chair In a hurry. but by the time h.
reached the door the hall wa,
empty. but there was a note lyinl
waiting for him.
1t said: II am going to sen<
you a grandmother-you must be mic.
to her for my sake"
Tom whistled. We'll, Of all thinxs.
| LAT I'D