Fulton County tribune. (Wauseon, Ohio) 1883-1925, 1921-06-09
CHAPTER SlX-Continued.


Hiram sat doing in a corner of the
bar~Toom of the Eagle Motel that day.
He had been ashamed to go to his
comfortable room over the garage.
Ee did not feel entitled to the hos
pltality of Mr.. Singleton. Somehow,
he couldn't bear the thought of going
there. His new clothes and silk hat
were in a state which excited the
derisiOn of small boys and audible
comment from all observers while he
had been making his way down the
street. His money was about gone.
The barkeeper had refused to sell
him any more drink. In the early
dusk he went out of doors. 1t was
almost as warm as midsummer and
the sky was clear. He called at the
door of the Widow Moran for his
dog. In a moment Christmas came
down from the Shepherds room and
greeted his master with fond affec-
tion. The two went away together.
They walked up a deserted street
and around to the old graveyard.
When it was quite dark, they groped
their way through the weedy, briered
aisles, between Undiscovered topping
stones, to their old nook under the
ash tree. There Hiram made a bed
of boughs, picked from the evergreens
that grew in the graveyard, and lay
down upon it under his overcoat with
the dog Christmas. He found it i'm
possible to sleep, however. When he
closed his eyes a new thought began
nudging him.
1t seemed to be saying, What are
you going to do now, Mr.. Hiram
Blenkinsop?"
He was pleased that it seemed to
say Mr.. Hiram Blenkinsop. He lay
for a long time looking up at the
starry moonlit sky, and at the marble,
Weather-spotted angel on the monu-
ment of the Reverend Thaddeus
Sneed, who had been lying there,
among the rude forefathers of the
village, since 1906. Suddenly the
angel began to move. Mr.. Blenkinsop
observed with alarm that it had dis
covered him and that its right fore
finger was no longer directed toward
the sky but was pointing at his face.
The angel had assumed the look and
voice of his Old Self and was saying:
II don't see why angels are always
cut in marble an set up in grave
yards with nothing to do but. point at
the sky. It's cold an lonesome busi-
ness. Why don't you give me job?"
His Old Self vanished and, as it
did so, the spotted angel fell to
coughing and sneezing. 1t coughed
and sneezed so loudly that the sound
went echoing in the distant sky and
so violently that it reeled and seemed
to be in danger of falling. Mr.. Blenk-
insop awoke with rude jump so that
the dog Christmas barked in alarm.
1t was nothing but the midnight train
from the south pulling out of the
station, which was near the old grave
yard. The spotted angel stood firmly
in place and was pointing at the sky
as usual.
1t was probably an hour or so later,
when Mr.. Blenkinsop was awakened
by the barking of the dog Christmas.
He quieted the dog and listened. He
heard a sound like that of baby cry
ing. 1t awoke tender memories in the
mind of Hiram Blenkinsop. One very
sweet recollection was about all that
the barren, bitter years of his young
manhood had given him worth hav-
ing. 1t was the recollection of a
little child which had come to his
home in the first year Of his married
life.
"She lived eighteen months and
three days and four hours" he used