The Huttig news., 1916-03-04

for, there among the mighty hills? These packed and crowded cities, with their noise and clangor, their trailing smoke, their hurrying multitudes and their dirt-stained. towering piles of stone and mortar?
 Weariiy he closed his eyes and gave it all up, turning his sick thoughts upon the benign old face of his father.
 So at last he reached New York, looked with odd unfamiliarity upon it's gayety and life, and hurried to the great old house in Riverside drive Breathless, weak, scarce able to stand for the strain on his right limb. adcringly around him in the dusky draped hall before the magnificent room of the worries and browns.
 There was the ache of tears in his throat, terrible horror of what lay behind the closed doors, an unendur= able anguish of abnormal love, but he squared his shoulders. lifted hls head with his old, jaunty air and entered. He even called a smile to his lips.
 In the high-eanopied, eoppef-posted bed lay the old inancier. The fine. cid face with it's pleasant tracery was marked by the hand of the Last Ac eountant. but 1t was still the face of great and good man, still heId it's benignity, It's klndllness and courtli ness.
 Now, with Sandrys step, a mighty gladness fell upon it, light of Joy that was all-illuminating.
 Waiter" he cried out ill a voice of momentary strength, "Oh. my son. Ally son!"
 F And with shudder to the boys ears came an echo, "Absalom!"
 He dropped beside the bed gath cred the white head in his arms, and rocked to and fro as women rock in anguish
 Presently MT Wilton Sandfy pushed his son from him with failing hands and gazed upon his face with the starved eyes Of long-denied affection
 My boy!' he whispered brokenly, my life's crown, the point of my whole suecess!"
 The long white hands quivered on Sandry's shoulders The bright. blue eyes began to light maryelousiy.
 T am at the end of my journey. Walter, and it has been a splendid iourney-a grand jeurney-and 1 thank my Maker for it l have been blessed beyond most men, beyond my deserts Your mother-she was above price-I cannot estimate her by any method She was my ore love and 1 nave never thought of another in all my long life May you find her equal. my son, pure woman with heart of the gold of undying love. She was an Estabrook- the best blood in the country. She left me you-a son such as only she could leave-and you nave proved worthy of her life. In character. intellect, up rightness-oh, what son you are!'
 The great specialist standing in the curtained alcove of the window behind the empty wheeled chair, turned anx- iously. Little Doctor Gentry came tor ward, hesitating
 Not too much, NIT. sandry." he warned, "too much exertion, you know
 The dying man looked up with that glowing fire in his keen eyes.
 Have l not waite for this hour?" he smiled. Have [ not held back the sickle of the Reaper for this one hour? Let it be full lily friend-this is my sonny son, of whom l am proud as Alexander of his conquered world!- and have him here. Let it be full"
 And Sandry, his heart like stone in his breast, smiled back with the same blue fire of keen eyes.
 "Old chap" he said lovingly, we're a pair together-I owe what l am to you, sir-you have been ny pattern.
 Flush, boy! You got your nature from your mother. Only your excel lent grip of finance, your youthful abil- ity, your forging qualities, here there was a ring om unmistakahle pride in the words, that, do fiatter myself l bequeathed you, and it is a good gift. a great gift when it goes with square ness, uprightness, and this you have to supernatural extent. That was my last worry-the uncertainty as to whether or not you possessed 1.-the gift of ability. You have removed it. l am at peace.'
 Sandry, looking full at the speaker, turned a dull crimson from brow to throat, but every nerve in his body thrilled with reckless triumph.
 My own success has been my third great blessing How great a blessing a satisfaction, a pride-a weakness, l may say. I am afraid to think.
 That I builded so well and held my completed structure through the con- tinual changes and dangers of busf- ness life has been my rounding-out. the pleasant finish to my career. Now, boy, it goes to you-the fine, great structure of my fortune"
 He ceased and smiled in an un- bounded pride which proved his words and was as balm to Sandry's soul
 The son bowed his head in eoartly acknowledgment of a magnificent gift, and his father went on: