Evening star., 1914-07-30

tell what the boy might be doing.
iamolfng. perhaps. though the money
that he gave him wouldn't last lonr un-
less the boy won. The fathers heart
stood still. Young Henry had been
strangely quiet lately; he seemed to have
something on his mind not wholly un-
pleasant. That the boy should gamble
But to gamble and win-then, indeed. the
boy were better dead. All. If only he
had gone with his mother The old man
laid his heavy gray head upon the sup
per table and cried. He felt helpless
as most people do when another soul is
| drifting to ruin.
Presently he raised his old head and
hastily wiped the tears away. The wom-
an who took care of the house came to
see II he wished for more pudding He
| thanked her. blowing his nose and walk
ing to the window to look out with osten-
| sible interest at the arc lights. Then he
| turned hastily back. Jennie was coming
| home. Even in the darkness he could dis
! ttnguish that fippant careless walk her
pert swing and the impudent tilt of her
| feathered hat. Long years before. when
| Henry was struggling with fractions,
and he was hurrying home from the
| store to help him with them. he had
dreamed Of the girl that Henry would
bring home. Sweet and clean, he had
visioned her, after the likeness of
Henry's mother. He had put up cheer
fully enough with slovenly women who
thought that for just man and q boy it
did not matter whether or not the house
| shone or was dirty; he had eaten deli
catessen pudding and stale bread and not
minded. Some day Henry would make
everything different. And now
He got the newspaper. There was a
war scare. He SKINNED over It. Unin-
teresting news. There was wreck: a
hundred killed. He read it stolidly. His
own trouble loomed bigger. The woman
cleared the dishes away and asked him
what she should have for breakfast He
did not care. II guess your son don't
never git tired of rolls and coffee" she
observed with indolent satisfaction. 1T
doesn't matter said old Henry. He
never ate rolls and he didn't care for
coffee.
There had been time when he hoped
that Henry's wife would like hot choco-
late He had dreamed once of sitting op-
posite fresh girl wife and slipping choc-
olate lazily while Henry. brisk and deb
onair, sprang hastily to catch a car.
For the boy would have an Office and he
would be needed at the Office. And he
would have to rush away Importantly
from breakfast And then his father and
the young wife would talk about him
how clever he was; how handsome he
was: how important he was to the world
of offices
For the last time old Henry blew his
nose There! He would quit sniveling.
For what was the sense in sniveling over
dead dreams He guessed he'd go back
to work. Not that there wasn't enough
money to keep them in comparative COM
fort, but he had to stop this uncomfortable
fretting. He drew his breath sharply.
There was q noise In the hall caused by
more than one pair of feet. Was some
one bringing Henry home? Oh. il he
didn't remember his own youth he
wouldn't be SO apprehensive! But once
he had been going down at a headlong
rate, and only because he met young
Henry's mother had he pulled up. Once
he himself had been brought home dead
drunk. He stumbled toward the door.
Well, whatever the boy had done he
would take the burden upon himself.
The curtains parted. Young Henry,
handsome, brisk, smiling, pulled In Jen-
ME Rowe. She was hanging back. for
once not q whit fiippant. Young Henry
held suit case which his father had
never seen. my wife"-he introduced