Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??, 1915-04-09

ooh, yes, / do" she cried earnestly.
You invite my opinion; l trust you
will accept it for what it is worth. Be-
fore you utter another word against
Frederic, let me remind you thai i
have known both of you for a long,
long time. In all the years l have
been in this house, l have never known
you to grant him a tender, loving
word. My heart has ached for him.
There have been times when | almost
hated you. He feels your neglect,
your harshness, your-your cruelty.
He"
"Cruelty!"
1T is nothing less. You do not like
him. l cannot understand why you
should treat him as you do. He shrinks
from you. Is it right. Mr.. Brood, that
a son should shrink from his father as
a dog crinSes at the voice of an un-
kind master? ! might be Idle to IN
derstand your attitude toward him II
your unkindness was of recent origin,
but"
Recent origin?" he demanded
quickly.
eff it had begun with the advent of
Mrs. Brood" she explained frankly,
undismayed by his scowl. Il do not
understand all that has gone before. Is
it surprising, Mr.. Brood, that your
son finds it difficult to love you? Do
you deserve"
Brood stopped her with a gesture of
his hand.
"The time has come for frankness
on my part. You set me an example.
Lydia. You have the courage of your
father. For months I have had it in
mind to tell you the truth about
Frederic, but my courage has always
failed me. Perhaps I use the wrong
word. 1t may be something very I'M
like co%wardice that has held me back.
I am going to put a direct question to
you first of all, and I ask you to an
swer truthfulIy. Would you say that
Frederic is like-that is. resembles his
father?' He was leaning forward d, his
manner intense.
Lydia was surprised. what an odd
his father. l have seen a por-
trait of his mother, but"
you mean that he looks like me?'
demanded Brood.
when he is angry he is very. much
like you, Mr.. Brood. I have often won
dered why he is unlike you at other
times. Now I know. He is like his
mother. She must have been lovely,
gentle, patient"
Wait! Suppose I were to tell you
that Frederic is not my son."
81 should not believe you. Mr..
Brood" she replied fatty. What is it
that you are trying to say to me?"
will you understand if 1 say to you
that-Frederic is not my SOM"
Her eyes filled with horror. How
can you a such a thing, Mr.. Brood?
He is your son. How can you say"
His father was the man who wrote
the accursed waltz he has just been
piayingA Could there be anything
more devilish than the conviction it
carries? After all these years, he"
Stop, Mr.. Brood"
II am sorry if I hurt you, Lydia. You
have asked me why l hate him. Need
/ say anything more?"
81 do not believe all that you have
told me. He is your son. He is. Mr..
Brood"
Il would to God l could believe
that" he cried, in a voice of agony. 81
would to God it were true"
You could believe it if you chose to
believe your own eyes, your own
heart" She lowered her voice to a
h~alf-whisper. "Does-does Frederic
know? Does he know that his mother
oh, l can't believe It'll"
H does not know"
And you did drive her out of this
house?" Brood did not answer. you
sent her away and-and kept her boy,
the boy who was nothing to you?
Nothing!"
Il kept him." he said, with a queer
smile IN his lips.
"All these years? He lever knew
his mother?"
He has never heard her name
spoken"
And she?"
4 only know hat she is dead. She
v saw him after-after thai day.
(To BE CoNTINUED9