Year: 1879

The clock only indicated half an hour
before he was back sgain, but I have
known whole weeks that seemed to mo
shorter. =


The doctor found no bones broken, but
the ankle was badly sprained. He
applied some soothing lotion, using all
our handkerchiefs tor the purpose, and
was not so busy with my little tyrant but
that saw my listener furtively look at
the corner of my handkerchief. He was
none the wiser, however, tor the only
mark was two German letters in text, in
such tfigree embroidery as would have
dehed any lingulst to name them.


The doctor could spare but few min
utes to his patient, and advised our call
ing carriage for her. She was on her
way to visit her mother, who lived in a
suburb two Or three miles out.


1t appeared that my listener had en-,
gagged carriage when he went after the
water, showing q thoughtfulness in his
character which greatly Increased my
respect.


He carried the little Quakeress to her
carriage, and arranged her in it; then he
returned and relieved me of the baby
though | could sec that she was far
heavier weight to him than her mother
had hcen-while gathered up the scat
tered travcling-bags and shawl.


''lt seems to me,' he said, hesita tingly,
"that one of us oug ght to see her safe to
her journeys end, but I have spent so
much time here already"


80, I can go perfectly we'll; I shall
loose nothing but a paintlnglesson."


"Ihank you; you have saved me great
Inconvenience. l hope when meet with
an accident On the cars, it may happen
on one Of your days for going into
town.


The words were not much, but he held
out his hand and shook mine SO warmly
that he brought the baby into imminent
peril OF falling, and I used her to hide nv
face, which would 1edden without anv
reason.


When he had placed us all comforta-
bly III the carriage, the Quakeress said to
HIM, ''Friend, should be glad to know
thy name and the place where thou doest
business, if peradventure, I may ever IT,
pay thy Kindness"


1T is nothing. I only did as I was
told. Your thanks are due the lady"


NAY, but tell me thine address, she
gently persisted.


lie looked at me and not at the Qua
keress, as he said, my name IS John
Gordon, shd my place is 21O F. Street,


When we reached the little cottage
where the mother OF the Quakcress lived,
l was SO warmly welcomed and so hospit-
ably treated, that I went in and spent
most OF the day. Even the baby relented
toward me, under the sunuy influence of
her grandmother, and we became moder-
ate friends. I actually grew to love these
people on an acquaintance of a few hours.


Have I said before that my listeners
already was not precisely as other men
in il NY eyes? He was very tall, fully six
feet, IT not fraction over, with shoulders
broad enough for any burden He was
littl ? clumsy withal, as if his body had
somewhat outgrown his consciousness of
1t; and, like all giants, he was very good
natured; every line in his face Showed
that the world wagged to his liking
through life


1t was wet, dreary day, and I sup
pose people take cold easily when their
spirits arc low, for I went home at night
shlverlng, and was not permitted to re-
sumo my journey till the end of a fort
night, when found Mr.. Gordon on the
platform looking about anxiously.


IL am SO glad to see you,' he said, talk
ing my hand cordially. ''I had begun
to think that Quaker baby was too much
for you. And you have been ill? You are
pale now"


[ replied very quietly to his greeting.
lie sat down beside me, and took little
parcel from his pocket.


"See," he said, ''our patient has sent
us something to remember her by, and
here n! is note you may read If you
like


This is the note:


"F|iend John Gordonr- were rich
In this worlds goods, I would try to re-
pay thy kindness to me when [ was in
great need; but will only send thee
little book to remind thee sometimes of
me. | have let slip from my memory the
surname sf the other friend who was so
good to me and baby. send book to thee
Tor her, as | conclude that thou knowest
her we'll. ALICE NEwMAN.n


AS turned over the leaves, photo
graph of the baby dropped out. 1t look
ca like tat, meaningless lump of clay,
like all baby's pictures.


"Let me write your name in the book"
he said, after pause.


"If you please"


''But cont know it YETI


eft is Hester DnaneD


"Thank you. If had known it soon
er, should have been spared some anx-
iety, as might have learned the reason
OF your staying at home so long"


We grew very we'll acquainted mental
! y and morally i'll our long talks. But
MIR. Gordon left me wholly in the dark
touching his family and circumstances,
and l was too proud to make INQUIRIES
Of any one who lived in the same town
with him. He had never said any thing
to me that good husband and the father
OF an Interesting family might not say to
a travelling acquaintance whom he found
agreeable, and l knew that more latitude
in manner is allowed to men than to wo-
men.


1T came to pass one day in sum-
mer that Mrs. Newman, our little Quak-
eress, invited us both to take tea with
her. had warm reception from Mrs.
Newman and her old mother, both of
whom thought that they couldn't make
my visit more agreeable than by enticing
the baby to show eff her PAGES.


AS tea.tlme drew on, I seemed to be-
come nothing but ears IN listening for
MT. Gordon. He came in good time, and
within five minutes the good old lady
had proved to her own satisfaction that
he was the third cousin to her on her
morher's side. He seemed really to be