Year: 1879

to learn any more"


The boy colored a little at that quizzical look
and tone.


81 know as much as George Lyman does, and
he left school three months ago. He says that he
amt going away to school when his father has got
plenty of money"


Mr. Palmer turned upon his sons face look of
grave surprise.


"Did George Lyman say that, Walter His
father is poorer man than thought him."


"You are richer than Mr.. Lyman is, amt you,
father" 2" cried the boy eagerly.
az hoped / was but that remains to be seem"


"Mr. Lyman is rich, too, father, everyone says
that he is"


"That remains to be seen also. So you have
quite made up your mind that you do not want to
go to school any more my son 2"
ayes, sir"


"You needn't, then"


"Oh, thank you, father !" cried Walter, his face
frightening.


"Wait minute" said Mr.. Palmer, as the boy
caught up his hat preparatory to making dive
through the open door. "Come back, have some
thing more to say to you. You have nothing to
thank me for-except, perhaps, my good inten-
tions. Considering it the best gift could be-
stow, it was my intention to give you a thorough
education. But there is homely and true say
ing: '0ne man can lead a horse to water, but ten
cannot make him drink So, though I have by
no means changed my opinion as to the value of
an education | consent to your leaving school,
because, if you feel you say you do, it will be
only time and money thrown away. But want
| you to understand clearly one thing; that if you
do not go to school you will have to so to work
can't afford to have you idle"
Walters countenance underwent very percep-
| tible change.


"Do you mean that must 60 out at days work
| like Dan Baker and Sam Blake ?"
"I mean that you must have some steady en-
ployment, some trade or business, which will give
you just so many hours work as surely as the sun
| rises


| "Why, father, George Lyman and Will Broom
ley don't have to work; and they say they don't
mean to either George told me he heard his faith
er say that you was the richest man in the county,.
| Il mght be the richest man in two counties, and
| vet not be rich enough to afford to have my boy


idle


Mr. Palmer smiled as he saw Walters puzzled
look.


"This is a hard thing for you to understand, my
son. and might talk to you from this time until
sunset and not make it any more clear to you.-
| Tomorrow is Saturday, and, you know l always
take you somewhere that day. This time it shall
be to Plainfeld, where an old schoolmate of mine
| is living. visit to him and the place where he
lives will serve better to explain my meaning than
anything can say"
The next morning Walter and his father started

| by pair of well-matched mettlesome bays, which
bore them swiftly along the smooth, hard road.
Plainfield was fifteen miles distant, and the way
thither through such beautiful country and SO
entirely new to Walter that he forgot all about
what his father had said the day before, until the
carriage stopped in front of gloomy stone building
'Are you going to stop here, father! why 1t
! looks like PRISON."


at is a prison." said Mr.. Palmer, who had
been unusually grave and silent during their ride
as Walter remembered afterwards.


"But 1 thought you were going to see an old
schoolmate of yours p
| "Here is where he lives"
Walter followed his father silently up the steps
which led to the heavy massive door of the main
entrance


"Dd you ever think that any one of your school
mates might find a home in some such place as
this ?-or even that you might" said Mr.. Palmer
as he pulled the be whose clangor broke harshly
upon the strange silence that reigned around.


Before Walter could reply the heavy door swung
back and they were ushered into the warden's office


He was heavily bearded man, with stern,
almost forbidding countenance; but he shook
hands with Mr.. Palmer, whom he had met before,
bestowing Walter a pleasant word and smile,
the latter giving his face quite another aspect.
"I came to inquire about j ohm Jackson, the forg
er" said Mr. Palmer, after few preliminary words.
"He is an old schoolmate of mine. | remember
him as high-spirited boy, rather headstrong, and
fonder of play than study, but with many genial
and pleasant traits of charactsr. How is he get
ting along Z"


every well. Had he been competent l should
have given him place book-keeper, made va
cant by convict whose time was up. As it was,
l had to put him in the shoe shop. He is quiet,
but he takes it pretty hard as such chaps are apt
to who have always had plenty of money and moth
ing to do. 1t is not in strict accordance with the
rules, but if you would like to see him I'll have
him sent out"


Mr.. Palmer assented and in a few minutes
grave, quiet man entered, whose closely cut hair
and peculiar dress gave him very strange look
to Walter, who had never seen anything like it
before.


He seemed glad to see Mr.. Palmer, though there
was a visible cOnstraint in his manner which
showed that he felt keeny his changed position
and surroundings.
Of the two, Mr.. Palmer seemed the most affected.
His voice broke little, as he said:


"I am glad to see you, Mr.. Jackson; but sorry,
very sorry to find you here"
"You can't be more sorry than | am to find my
self here,' said the man, with forced smile.


Then, as if anxious to change the subject, he
turned to Walter.


81 needn't ask whose boy this is ?"


at is my oldest son, Walter. He is just about
the age we were when we used to go to school to-
gether, in dear old Bridgeville Have you forgot
ten all about those days, John ?"


Whether it was these words, or the sight of that
fresh innocent face, for few moments Jackson
struggled silently with the tender and subduing
recollections that rushed over him then breaking
down suddenly he covered his face with his hands.


Walter had never seen man weep before, and
those sobs and means were something he never
forgot.


II wish could p said the wretched man, lift
ing up his pale tear stained face. 81 wish could
forget what once was, all that might have been
and what am Isometimes think that it is hor-
rbe dream that l shall some day wake and find
it so /"


GLOW did it happen ?" inquired Mr.. Palmer,
as soon as his companion was calmer when l
last saw you, your prospects were Drlght-appa-
rently brighter than mine."


at can be summed up in two words" was the
gloomy response "Idleness and bad company.
If my father had trained me to habits of industry
and self lf-reliance, had not come to this. But he
loved me, and glad am that the grave has hid
from him all knowledge of the shame and misery
of the son, whom his Judged, shortsighted kind
ness ruined. AS you know, l would not study.
thought there was no need for me-a rich mans
son-to do that. can remember how despised
the dull, plodding fellows, who are honored men
to-day. My fathers death put me into possession
of wealth, of which never earned dollar, and
of whose use and worth l know nothing. How it
went haruly knew uuI d"Oho oHO MoAnlhS W
find myself poorer than the lowest clerk in the es
tablishment that my father had built up with so
much care and labor but which had now passed
into the hands of strangers. My fair weather
friends, who had helped to spend my money, urg-
ing me to every conceivable folly and extraya-
gance left as soon as they found that there was no
more to spend. l knew nothing about getting
money by honest work, but money must have;
so turned my attention to the various ways of
getting money without work. The rest needs no
telling"


Here the warden entered and with his heart
somewhat cheered and strengthened by Mr.. Pal
mer's whispered words of encouragement and sym
pathy. Jackson returned to his dreary task"


The warden now took them around through the
various workshops, cells, ETC., kindly explaining
to Walter all that he did not understand.
When they visited the shoe shop, Walter saw
Jackson sitting there among the rows of busy,
silent men, not one of whom dared to lift his eyes
as they passed by.