Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1919-08-06
JAMES FATHER
BY MARJORIE Philips.

burMe was HHeQ Win ulStruSt ana
contempt for himself, After all, what
right had he to claim this favored
woman's love, SO willingly given? Be
tween her ways and the ways Of his
people, a great gulf was fixed, and In
the eagerness of his love for Madeline
he had been too cowardly to refer to
the humbleness Of his old home, where
his father still lived.
james Burnie had climbed rapidly
the ladder of success and would gladly
have shared It's benefits with the rug
ged old Scotchman who stubbornly re-
fused them all.
III live as like to live, jamie" he
had said. New ways and new friends
would bring no new pleasures"
So James continued in his splendid
bachelor apartment in the city, while
old Burnie Senior went happily about
his household duties just little far
Their away, keeping the floors as clean
and the dishes as shining as when his
faithful wife had been there to full
fill these duties. But the weekly Wis
Its Of the younger James, We're to him
self a continual source Of humiliation.
When he had first met Madeline, he
had adored her from afar, never
dreaming that this GROWING conquest
might be his.
Madeline, the accomplished, reared
in luxury, as mother and grandmother
had been before her. Her love had
gone out to join him as naturally as
flower seeks the sun, and their be-
trothal was Inevitable. Now, only. as
they planned their future together,
did he compare mentally this father
Of h,rs. this polished accustomed man
of successful world, with the con-
tented Scotchlnan bending in comfort
ably shabby clothes over his flower
beds, or whistling cheerily as he placed
the blue cups back in their cupboard.
What would Madeline say-what
would she think when he must bring
this stopped old figure into her pres
ence and present him as his father,
hers, to be.
jamie Burnie was. not snob. In
his soul he loathed himself for the
Precipitation this fancied picture occa-
stoned. So, time went on, and In his
anxiety he neglected to urge the set
ting Of the wedding day. 4
The entertainments with which Mad
eline's irreproachable friends favored
the engaged couple were brilliant and
many. But beneath the strain Of gay
ETY.. perhaps. the girls health began to
fail; the color left her cheeks, and
her eyes seemed to take on an appeal
ing light James Burnie and Mad
eline's father were alike concerned
It was after the doctor had forbid
den the acceptance Of Invitations, and
suggested long rides In the open air
instead, that the pretty color came
back again, and Madeline's spirits grew
brighter accordingly.
James Burnie often wondered at the
curious looks she gave him. He won
dered too, at sort OF gentle softness
In her manner. Never had she been so
endearing; more and more like cloud
before the sun OF his happiness was
the consciousness OF this growing
shame Of his-of the inevitable fact
Of his crude old father. And then one
evening when James Burnie called.
Madeline came. seriously to sit upon
the garden bench at his side.
u have had such a gloriously rest.
full afternoon" she said, zone Of many
recently spent in the same way. It
has been like leaving the stage Of a
theater for play, James, and going
back into real life simple life, and
sweet" Madeline threw out her arms
with free gesture.
"A place, where no critical audience
forever awaits ones acting. So. ! cast
aside my acting, James, and was just
a tired girl, 'cOmforted and cheered by
the kindest human heart that ever
beat. 1t has been an experience, James.
to meet such o nobly simple SOUL" she
said.
+ During one Of my first afternoon
drives became faint and left my
car In the road, while / asked at a
little cottage for some milk to drink.
An old Scotchman who keeps house
there alone brought 1t to me. But first
must obey his commands and take
the milk seated in great comfy chair
on the porch. Afterwards. must see
his neat house and his garden, and
as we walked together his shrewd old
eyes seemed to read my very life. l
did not need to tell him that my doc
tor had ordered rest and country air,
or that was sick unto death Of COM
mittees and various public affairs. The
old Scotchman knew 1t all-he had
read it in my face. And he planned,
with planning which did not real
lie at the time, that must stop to-
morrow to pick the big roses in his
garden, and the next day, to look at
his purple plum-laden tree. So every
day came to rest In the bolstered old
chair on the porch with the glass Of
cream waiting and growing larger each
time, while the old man talked to me
OF life, of books, Of people, until ! felt
that had failed before in much knowi-
edge that was true and needful. He
spoke Of his boy, and his tone was
as tender as 1t was proud"
Madeline stood up. her eyes were
shining.
my dear old man, tells me that his