Ladysmith news-budget. [volume] (Ladysmith, Rusk County, Wis.) 1907-1927, 1921-06-17


won't do for me-" said the latter.
"Why not?" the minister asked.
81 can't afford it."
"Have you found religion a lux
ury?' Mr. Singleton asked.
Its grand while it lasts, but it's
like pison gettin' over it," said
Hiram. II feel kind o. ruined"
you look it," said the minister,
with a glance at Hiram's silk hat
and soiled clothing. "a long spell
Of sobriety is hard on man If he
quits it sudden. You've had your day
of trial, my friend We all have
to be tried soon or late. Peo-
pie begin to say, AT last he's come
around all right. He's good fellow
And the Lord says: Perhaps he's
worthy of better things. I'll try him
and See.'
That's His way of pushing people
along, Hiram. He doesn't want them
to stand still. You've had your trial
and failed, but you mustn't give up,
When your fun turns into sorrow, as
it will, come back to me and We'll
try again"
Hiram sat doing in a corner of The
bar-roOm of the Eagle hotel that day.
He had been ashamed to go to his
comfortable room over the garage.
He did not feel entitled to the hos
pitality 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
derison 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
down from the Shepherds room and
greeted his master with fond affec-
ton. The two went away together.
They walked up deserted street
and around to the old graveyard.
When it was quite dark, they CROPPED
their way through the weedy, briered
aiSles, between moss covered topping
stones, to their old nook under the
ash tree. There Hiram made 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 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 lsnger 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 bust
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