Tombstone epitaph., 1915-01-31

ness at that. He realized that the final meeting would only have caused her pain.
 It was his plan to work his way West. little by little. He had no thought of going down to Taunton again. But when he stepped into the free world there came over him an irresistible desire to see the little son who had been born to him.
 He resolved to go down to Taun- ton under cover of night and plead to be allowed to set eyes on the boys face. Surely this much would not be refused him.
 He took the train to the metropo- lis, and from there local to Taunton. He reached the town an hour before sunset, and hung about the outskirts. He could not face the people whom he had known. He felt little shame on his own account. It was for the sake of the boy. And no sacrifice was too great for him.
 It was about an hour before cark when he crept up to the lawyers house. which stood in extensive grounds in a fashionable neighbor- hood. Nobody had recognized him. He breathed more freely when he reached his goal
 Through the window he saw his father-in-law seated at a table read ing a newspaper. But ever and anon the old man would put the paper down and pace the room nervously. He was evidently laboring under a severe strain. Was 1t because this was the day of John Dunton's freedom?
 The watcher looked up. A light the blind was drawn. Dunton sur missed that this was the room in which the little boy was lying. Johnny. the child had been called, as though there was to be only one of that name in the family thenceforward At first Dunton had taken the naming as mark of remembrance; afterward he understood
 He could no longer resist the over towering craving. Quietly he passed through the grounds and rang the bell.
 It was his father-in-law himself who opened the door to him, and Dunton. in the midst of his own distress. could not fail to be struck by the distress on the features of the older man.
 The lawyer recognized him, but evinced no surprise. He led the way quietly into his library.
 T don't want to trouble anyone" began Dunton. "But am on my way West, and I want to see my boy before I go. shall neTer come back Be member that have never seen him. sir. You will understand, won't you?'
 The lawyer looked fixedly at the haggard man before him.
 Does Lola know that you are con- ing?" he asked.
 No" answered Dunton. '1 have not seen her since her visit to me ;wo weeks ago. I accept her decision and yours, sir. But let me see my boy again"
 Yes. you shall see him." the law yer answered You have a good deal to answer for. John Dunton, but now-now- He turned away and his voice seemed to fail him.
 He led the way up the stairs, and as he went. Dunton read no pity in the old mans step. He knew his ia ther-in-law to be infexible where he had made up his mind. The broken man followed him.
 Up the stairs they went, and into the lit room. The room at first seemed empty. The gas was burning dimly, and at first Dunton could see only the outlines of the bed, with its white counterpane.
 Then he saw the outlines of lit tie figure lying between the sheets. And the lawyer turned up the gas and stood looking fixedly at him.
 This was his son, but Duntou start ed back, and cry of agony burst from his throat
 The little eyes were closed, but not in sleep; the little waxer hands lay heavily upon his breast There was peaceful smile upon the face of the dead child.
 John Dunton flung himself upon his knees beside the bed and wept as though his heart was broken.
 Presently he was aware that there was another figure in the room. A black-robed woman glided in and kneeled at his side. Her arms sought his neck and drew him toward her, and together they mourned over their child.
 The lawyer came quietly toward them.
 This is the beginning of your new life, John," he said quietly. Your now life-together."
 tCopyright. IsIi. by ". c. chapman)