Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1924-03-13

At sight of her. a-tiptoe by a lilac
bush and reaching up for one. OF Its
choicest blossoms, the studious con-
centration left the face OF the man on
the porch and there came over his
features curious sadness--a sadness
touched with fire, as If within him had
suddenly fared up some desperate
battle of the soul.
The girl had heard the step on the
porch. With the coveted blossom In
her hand at last. she placed it with
the others, and turned with q smile Of
sensible frankness.
The precise and studious concentra-
ton instantly returned to the eyes be-
hind the spectacles, the stoop came
back to the capable shoulders, and,
with the quick. mincing step that was
coat and neck stock, he came down off
the porch and joined her.
With the stately and somewhat pom
derous courtesy of seventy years ago,
he had taken the shears, begging to
be allowed to cut the flowers. when
the slam of gate drew their eyes to
the back of the yard. The old banker
was just coming from the barn, his
step leaving the rumpled trail In the
gray dew of the lawn, his rugged face
apparently foil of its accustomed
strength and color *
"W'y, father, expected you'd stay
in bed while this morning yet. after
that--fainty spell the other night"
"Red! No place FIR well man after
daylight"-he pulled himself up to the
last inch Of his gaunt height; stretched
MP his arms; filed his chest with the
dew-washed air; expelled 1t with an
explosive exclamation that scared a
couple of blackbirds In the branches
above; and the crags and battlements
Of his grim old face smoothed them
selves out into an expression as near
as they could come to a smile-"an'
i am we'll man--fit as a fiddle"
But father, you don't think OF
goin to the-office t'day?v
SAW, / reckon y'u'd all r'ar up Ii I
did"
"rm so glad-and won't it be nice t
have y'u at home all day ag'in
wish y'u never would so back t that
horrid oil Office ag'in."
The old man put his arm around her
and patted her shoulder.
You're a good gal, Texie. dunno
what y'ur OIL father would do without
I y'u, now that--that-"
He stopped; let his eyes stray up
the river and far into the east, all
flushed and spangled with the close
coming of the sun; the girl bent her
head; the preacher stood fumbling the
shears in his hand
| "Mebbe / will quit the Office one o.
/ these days.
His eyes were still lost in the east /;
he spoke as If his heart was there.
His daughter raised her head and
searched his face.
"You alw'ys say that, but y'u never
| do" -
II dunno. better walk out than be
carried out they say, an I've come al
mighty nigh that very thing time r
| two--heap nigher"-he brought his
! eyes back out of the east noticed the
hurt on his daughters face and patted
| her shoulder.
The sitting-room door opened, and
the. .portly form of the housekeeper
appeared on the porch.
There's Mis- Curry" the girl cried,
Selling her fathers arm and inviting
the preacher with her eyes. Break
fast's ssedy. and our bouquet not half
| finisheu.'
She was the life of the little group
| that assembled few minutes later in
the gloomy old dining-room. with the
candles Pickering over its bare walls
and waging losing battle with the
shadows lurking In the corners. Only
for her. the scene and setting might
have been somber enough-the stark
| walls, stiff old furniture, decorations
and ornamentation severely In keep
ing with the taste of day long gone /;
| the grim gray figure that presided at
J the head of the table.
/ Banker Colin was a man out of
whom life had squeezed most Of the
/ finer sensibilities and coined them into
! gold. The dreams of boyhOod, the ro-
nance of youth, the glory of manhood
-gone-bargained away for price.
Sitting there at his gloomy breakfast
table, a disappointed, weary old man,
his soul cried out to rue the bargain I;
to trade back with fate. But none
had learned the lesson better than he
that fate trades not back that there
he was doomed to sit, hopeless
mourner over the dead ashes of the
might-have-been.
The forenoon he spent in the small
room. busy with his papers, or in
meeting people who came to pay him
money-or borrow 1T.
In the afternoon he tried to take a
nap, but SO long had his mind been set
to its daily grind that 1t now ran on
/ in spite of him-a sort Of mental en-
CINE whose clutch could no longer be
-