The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1915-07-22

hands OF Burr. Bill took his arm
and led him out of the place with a
last word to his fellow convivialists:
I'm through" Then, as they
gained the street, he said in a tone
held steady by the power of q
strong will: go home, for can see
you're used TO one. You've hit me
hard, I'm thinking. Maybe it will start
me face about, too" and was gone.
Burr stood staring after him vague.
ly. The enthusiasm that had sustained
him in his song, had given way to
the dead, dull sensation that comes
with the reaction from the excitement
of drink What he had imbibed now
drove him into a certain brain leth-
argy he could not resist. His steps
grew staggering. He tried to realize
that he had what was untold wealth
for him in his present homeless, work
less condition.
He had wavering idea of going
back to the drinking den end celebrat-
ing his unexpected accession of cash.
H1 was conscious of reaching door
step. A latch string gave Way. He
sprawled in the darkness, crept
around on his hands and knees, and
sank into sodden slumber
1t was morning when Burr awoke.
His senses were still dazed. He
gradually took in his environment, %
realized that he was lying under
bench on c bare floor. Then he
guessed what the place was-an old
building used as the only church in
the place.
1t was place so poor and so free
of all that T. was not even kept locked
up. Burr closed his eyes again. His
mind began to go over the scenes OF
the preceding evening. The gold?
His hand felt along his coat. Yes, 1t
had been no vision. He could feel the
weighty treasure SO prodigslly given
for the sake of a song.
There came glow, sudden i'm
pulse to hasten back to the compan-
ions who had dragged him to the
depths. Suddenly the scene of last
nights song was revived in his mind.
He looked reverently about the little
place sustained by a struggling group
Of good people. There stood the lit
tie organ. 1t was open. He moved
towards 1t. His fingers strayed across
its keys.
Surely some good spirit was NOV
ing his better nature. Again he for
got time and place. He seated him.
self before the humble instrument.
His touch swept the keys in pre-
lude to an old-time song, and then,
despite himself, his voice burst forth
into ringing melody.
He arose, the tears streaming from
his eyes. They were not so binding,
however, that he did lot see the big
metal box with slit in its top and
bearing the words: Donations for
Our New Church.
Burr rid his pockets of the last
grain of gold dust. He turned towards
the door. 1t was to face fresh, bloom
ing young girl, the minister's daugh-
ter. She had witnessed all. Her
own eyes were humid. 1t was no time
for words. Only, she took both his
hands in her own.
you have made some great re-
solve" she spoke.
''Yes-a new life."
Heaven speed you'll"
1t was Leslie Burr who built the
new church in Raven Gulch. 1t was
he who, seeking honest work, became
first a laborer, then a millman, and
then superintendent of the great For
tunatus mine
You have indeed redeemed your
promise" Mabel Fare told him one
evening, a year after that weird
morning scene.
Can ask one of your" he inquired
earnestly.
She knew what this indicated. She
fiuttered as he told her of his love
Once again she placed her hands with
in his own.
81 trust you," she said simply. Il
am proud of you and-I love you'll"