The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1916-12-23

road, where the route began, than
Deacon realized the inexperience of
the new man. Why, he was actually
going to drive right past the Powers
place, and the Powers almost always
had mail Of some kind, even IL 1t
wasn't more than poultry magazine
or seed catalogue. After one or
two such mistakes Deacon took charge
of things himself. From house to
house he went, stopping wherever he
had been in the habit of calling, wait
ing until the new carrier found who
lived there and had looked through let
tiers and parcels to see II he had any
thing for them.
All the forenoon and all the after
noon this went on, but when the red
sun went down In the frosty west there
still remained half hundred letters
and more than peck of packages to
be delivered. The new man was hun
cry and tired, but he was no gutter.
So he begged some hay and oats for
Deacon, borrowed lantern, and to-
gether they started to finish the route.
AS for Deacon, his old knees were
sitter than ever, his shoulder muscles
ached, his TANKS heaved like pair of
blacksmith's bellows, but he plunged
on, never skipping single house,
never hesitating at roundabout half
mile, doing his whole duty quite as
thoroughly as If there had been some
one behind to urge him on instead Of
a cold-numbed clerk, who had no
longer even touched the reins. At last
only one letter was left, thick, bulky
one In blue waterproof envelope,
bearing foreign postmark. Josiah
Braisted, Esq.," was the address.
BREASTED, eh?" muttered the clerk.
Wonder If the old horse knows where
he lives?
Evidently Deacon did, for he was
blowing through big drift, heading
| straight out on the Boston road into
the darkness. Far ahead, on the top
of long hill, the clerk could see the
lights of big house. There were no
other lights between. Miles behind he
could make out the glow of the city.
The clerk wished he could be back
there, where one could be warm again
and get something hot to eat. With
numb fingers he pulled out his watch.
Half-past nine! Why, 1t would take
them a good two hours to drive back
now! Braisted be hanged! He could
get his letter after Christmas.
So he grabbed the reins and indi-
Gated to Deacon desire to turn
around. But Deacon would not turn.
Pull on the rein as he might, Deacon
would only swing his head about,
keeping his legs moving straight
ahead. BY much shouting and saving
on the reins Deacon was stopped.
Then the new driver waded out to his
head, took him by the bits and tried to
point the horse the other way. Dea-
con refused to bulge. Those lights on
the top of the long hill marked the end
Of the route, and Deacon knew 1t. And
to those lights they went. "Josiah
Braisted?" asked the driver CURLY of
the young woman who answered his
ring.
"Oh, it's come, it's comet" she
shouted to someone within, as she held
out her hand eagerly for the letter.
| Never before had he seen so much
excl cement caused by the delivery of
letter. In moment there were three
or four persons in the front hall, all
talking at once.
do you think It will save him, doc.
tor" asked the anxious-faced old
lady who had followed the girl to the
door.
1T will If anything will, guess,
answered stout, bearded man. And
he mounted the stairs to see the pa.
tent in the upper room.
Then they insisted that the half
frozen clerk come inside and have
something to eat. Deacon? oh, they
would take care of Deacon. They did
all this and more. 1t seemed that this
!, letter had been long expected, and was
sadly needed, for II came from prod
igal son to a very sick father. 1t hat
! It's effect, too.
OF course the clerk told them o.
, Deacon's heroic stubbornness, Of how
| Tic Olu HOiSt uuu iuSlStcu Ou BOiHl
. to the very end Of the route wheI
, he had tried to turn him back. Josial
I BREASTED, ESQ.,, heard the story durini
, his convalescence.
! II must tell my son about that whel
! he comes home," he would repeat a
, they told him Of the part Deacon
played in the story. 1--WE ought to d,
something for that old horse" he said
They did, too. The office clerk, VIII,
/ will first show you handsome golt
! watch, tells the story best, always end
, ing with, "And old Deacon, why, h,
J lives out there on the Braisted plac,
like thoroughbred. He's in clover
he is"
"weli,v Dan Sweeney will add, "iti
no more'n he deserves. Old Deacon
was mighty good horse In his day
and mighty knowin'"-St Louis Globe
Democrat