Year: 1870

iAIO Atoiy A1ltT We IldQ Ue0D
slowly ascending for some time
we got out of the carriage,
thinking we should get on quite
as fast and perhaps more pleas
antly on foot; and by taking
short cuts across the zigzags,
we soon got ahead of our con-
veyanee. 1had been over the
same pass twice or thrice be-
fore, when a happy, | mean an
unhappy bachelor, and / remem-
bered the by-paths pretty well ;
and we were soon in sight of
the inn where we intended to
pass the night, not very far from
the summit of the pass.


As we toiled on, we overlook
a gentleman apparently an Eng
lishman, and a little boy. I be-
lieve that, feeling pretty sure,
from the general appearance of
the man, that we were compa-
triots. / said something to him,
remarked that it was a fine eve
ming, or, that the scenery was
grand forgot what he, how
ever, made some monosvllabic
reply, and did not feel inclined
to fraternize, so we passed on.
Still / took a hasty note of him.
He was a man apparently Of
some twenty-eight years of age,
of a delicate frame and almost
feminine countenance. One
thing / particularly noticed, he
had a slight but peculiar mark
under the left eye, what Box or
Cox might have called a straw
berry mark. The boy that was
with him, a child of not more
than six years old, was evident
ly his son, for both / and my
wife traced a strong resemblance
between the pair; and the little
fellowl looked very pale and tired
as his father dragged him up the
steep ascent.


We soon left them far behind,
and my wife remarked that it
was a curious circumstance that
those two should be thus going
over the pass /; for we had seen
no other carriage on the road
which could belong to them,
and she naturally thought it
very hard that such a young
child should be forced to make
such a tedious journey on foot.


However, when we reached
our destination we thought no
more Of them and after a pleas
ant and appetising supper, in
which red trout read them
now in the bill-formed no un-
item, we strolled out
again and watched the white
ghories of the rising moon,
spreading over the highland
valley in which we were.


When we entered the hotel
again, and went into the sale a
mdnger for some coffee, we dis
covered the younger Of our fell
low toilers sitting meekly by
himself, in one corner of the
room. A table was spread for
before him, and, he was
then awaiting the arrival uf his
father.


His large blue eyes looked
tired and sad !; his golden curls
tangled over his shoulders no
tender hand had cared for him
after his weary walk; and | saw
the tears stealing in my wife's
eyes, as she whispered to me,
"He has no mother to take care
of him." This, l thought, was
a hasty conclusion to arrive at,
and | said so. Ny wife-wi-
ser than /, 1 suppose-shook
her head, and entirely disagreed
with me.


We fingered over our coffee
for some time longer than nee
essary. The patient child sat
silent in the dark corner /; now
and then the blue eyes wandered
inquiringly toward the door,
but found no answer there. An
hour passed away /; but his faith
er-if the man we had seen was
his father, and of this We have
no doubt-never came.





II can't stand this. John" :"
said Laura to me, Indignantly.
sIf somebody don't, give that
poor child his supper, I'll do it
myself"


[ demonstrated mildly. 81
don't think we have any right
to interfere, my dear, No
doubt his father is taking a nap
up stairs, and he viii wake up
and be down directly"


NAP, indeed p retorted
Laura, rather sayagely. In