The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1913-02-08
Continued from page g.
JIM.
"Grayson, n. Y. April-

"Grayson, N. Y, April.
THE Right Rev. Francis DOMAIN, d. d.
Your Lordship:-At your word l
came to Grayson and assumed charge
of Our Lady of the Hills. / have
Strengthened the tangled affairs of this
parish and, now that / have completed
the work, / find it impossible to re-
main longer. / sigh for the city; for
larger field of activity You prom
ised me change if this proved un-
satisfactory. l find it so and anxious
~ await my removal remain,
your humble servant in Christ,
James Thorne."
The priest read the letter slowly
with grim satisfaction, then placed
in on the desk. The sharp screech of
a whistle from the quarry announced
the noon hour. From the hillside came
deep muffled rumble. Blasting was
going on while the quarrymen were
at dinner. The sound echoed and re-
echoed from the slopes and then died
away on the distant peaks.
Father Thorne unused on while a
bluebird whistled outside his window
Suddenly his body became tense and
he listened; then leaped to his feet
as rapid footballs sounded on the walk
and mounted the porch. He was at
the door in an instant, flinging it open
to face a dust-stained workman.
You're wanted at the quarry,
Father" he painted, "a man hurt while
blasting. I guess he's a goner."
Delaying for moment to secure his
oil-stocks, the priest hurried over the
hill after the man. His guide was
telling him the story of the accident
in broken sentences. Not realizing
the time when the dynamite would
explode, the poor fellow had fingered
too near. The shock hurled him to
the ground and crushed him with
debris.
"He needs you, Father; he's sure a
bad one," he ended with pant.
They bounded down the slope and
made for the engine shanty. A crowd
had gathered near the door, but fell
back when Father Thorne arrived.
Some saluted him; others gazed at
him gloweringly, while one grunted:
Cali this priest-fuss for a dirty wop.'
The remark struck the priest like a
knife-thrust. He deigned not to hear
it and stalked into the shanty. On a
heap of bags in a corner lay crum-
pied, blood-stained man. A smile con-
torted his face when his eyes rested
on the priest. With feeble cry his
eager hands reached toward Father
Thorne. The priest was down beside
him, and the burden of ten years sin
and sorrow was lifted from his soul
as self-accusations issued from his
| lips. The priest administered the
last rites of the Church and bent over
the penitent with prayers and words
of consolation.
Suddenly the mangled quarryman
sat up, opened his mouth and the
death-rattle gurgled in his throat. He
extended his arms, opened his hands
and clutched convulsively at the air
then collapsed upon the bags. He was
dead.
The priest arose from his knees anC
stepped back to gaze at the inanimate
form. A shaft of light from the oper
door fell upon the upturned counter
ance of the dead man. An ineffable
smile fingered upon the lacerated face
and parted the lips stained with quarry
dust. The eyes were open, surprised
at having looked beyond the grave
into the face of eternity.
Father Thorne quite the shanty anC
walked over the hill slowly and solemn
ly, the death-scene still before him
His little glimpse into the lives o
these men aroused in him a desire tt
go among them and know them better
There is work for me here" b,
unused. these men must be proper
ly watched and tended, for tempta
ton is the same in Grayson as in tn
smoky cities. I sigh for work; to b
up and doing. But am not selfisl
when l desire the activity that vii
} bring me before the eyes of the world
Here is work without fanfare or blair
of trumpets; why not accept it,"
He followed the path that led owe
the hill and dipped into the gully be
hind the quarry. Coming to the sun
NIT, he stopped near clump of tree
and listened intently A long-draw,
out moan reached his ears, as of on
in agony He waited, but the sound wa
not repeated. Then he stepped fol
ward cautiously.
Father Thorne peered between tn
trees, then caught his breath sharply
In front of him he discerned a MAJ
seated upon log. His elbows reste
upon his knees and he nursed hi
head in his hands. Across his lap la
surveyors transit. His bent figur
was picture of abject misery an
: there was the heave of a stifled so
in his shoulders. No wonder tn
priest was surprised. 1t was Jir
Rockwell
Father Thorne's hand fell upon tn
dropped shoulders. Rockwell jerke
himself up, startled.