Year: 1872

bHd1 tHo lItIle lduy 50 lar ylolQSQ bO bHc
impulses of her sex as even to question
young Willow in roundabout way but
the lad was plainly enough schooled to 81
-ence, and you had only to look at his
square, strongly-built chin to learn how
hopeless it would be to urge him when
once his mind was made up. He only
smiled and put the question by, as man
would have done, and before us, at least,
neither father nor son spoke of it again
| during the next month.


The pleasant, hazy November days
came and went, and one evening on my
return home I learned that Mr.. Willow
had suffered from second attack of
faintness, and from my wife [ learned
that the lad had let fall that his grand
father had called once more, and that the
two men had had another brief and bitter
meeting. The following morning, as
went to my work, | saw the stranger
walking to and fro on the far side of the
street. Nothing could be more p1tiable
than his whole look and bearing, because
nothing is sadder to see than man of
gentle breeding so worn with some great
sorrow as to have become shabby from
mere neglect of himself. He peered
across the street, looked up at the win
dows and at the shop, and at last walked
feebly away, with now and then wistful
look back again-such look as | saw
once in my life in the great eyes of huge
watch dog, whom we left on the prairie
beside the lonely grave of his master


From this time onward, all through
a severe winter, he haunted the
neighborhood, once again, and only
once, venturing to speak to the clock
maker, to whom his constant presence
where he could hardly fail to see him at
times became a torture which was plain
ly wearing his life away. Twice, also,
he spoke to the boy, and once urged him
to take little package which he supposed
might have been money. At last, my
anxiety became so great that [ spoke to
him myself, but was met so coldly, yet
with so much courtesy, that I felt little
| inclined to make the same attempt again,


learned with no great trouble that he
lived quietly during this winter at one Of
our great hotels, that he seemed to be q
man of ample means, and that his name
was Tressilian, but beyond this [ knew no
more. He came, at last, to be a well
known figure in our neighbOrhOod, as he
wandered sadly about among rough por-
ters and draymen and the busy hustle of
trade. His visits to our house, and his
questions about Mr.. Willow, were added
sources of annoyance to the latter, who
rarely failed to look gloomily up and
down the street, to make sure of his alb
sence, before he ventured out of doors.


Under this system of watching and
worry, Mr. Willows attacks grew at last
more frequent, and as the spring came on
my good wife became, as she said, worked
up to that degree that she at last made
up her feminine mind, and so one fine
morning sailed OUT and had her own talk
with the cause of our troubles.


think the good little woman had de-
termined to try if she could reconcile the
father and son. She came to me in the
evening good deal crestfallen, and with
very little of the blessedness of the peace
maker in her face. While Mr.. Willow
was out she had sent his son, who was
keeping guard in the shop, on an errand,
and had then actually brought the
stranger into the house, wherG, refusing
! to sit down, he had wanderel TO and fro,
! talking half coherently at times, and at
last urging her to induce his son to speak
with him once more. AS to their cause
of quarrel he was silent. CA lonely, sad
old man." said my wife. He said he
would kneel to his boy, if that would do
any good, but to go away, to go away
and leave him, that he could not do-that
he would not do. God would bless her,
he was sure; and might he kiss her hand?
and SO went away at last, sorrow stricken,
but willful to keep to his purpose.


Perhaps my wife's talk may have had
it's effect, because for month or two he
was absent. Then he came and asked at
the door for Willow, who was out; and
for while haunted the street, until late
in the spring, when we saw him no longer.


Meanwhile Willow had become more
feeble, and a new trouble had come to our
own modest door.


Many years have since gone by, and
| happier fortunes have been ours-brave
sons and fair daughters, and more of this
worlds gear than perhaps is good for us
TO leave them-but to this day L remem-
Der with discomfort that luckless evening
hastened home with the news to my
wife, and what news to two hustful
young folks who had married against the
will Of their elders, and had seen, as yet,
no cause to regret their waywardness!


"May," said land | can recall how
full my throat felt as I spoke-'M May, /
/ am thrown out of work. The company
is lessening its staff, and I am to leave to-
morrow"


| thought the little woman would have
been crushed, but, on the contrary, it was
|, who meant to comfort her, who was
the beaten one.


well, Harry" said she, in CHEEKY
way, 81 did not suppose it would last for
ever"


Man though was, sat down and COW
cred my face with my hands. We were
very young, and very, very POOR. had
been offered, not long before. place IN
the West, but our little treasury was very
low, and to secure the position with a
probable future of success, required some
hundreds of dollars, so we had not dared
to give it another thought; and now, at
last, what were we to do?


"Do!' said May, why But kiss
me Harry, you haven't kissed me since
you came in"


I kissed her, rather dolefully I fear.
"We can't live on Kisses" said l.


"Not as a steady diet" she replied,
laughing. Perhaps this may have some
good new for us :" and so saying she
handed me letter.


Iopened it absently and glanced over
il in haste Misfortunes never come
single, May" said |.


@No, my darling" she answered,
laughing they only come to married
people, to make them good girls and boys,
[ suppose. What is it, you grumpy old
man ?"


I read it aloud. 1t was request-and
rather crusty one, too-from bachelor
cousin, to return to him small sum
which he had lent us when we were mar
ried. He had met with certain losses
which made it needful that he should be
repaid at once.


"Any more letters, May ?" said I, rue
fully.


Nonsense r' said she. Let us think
about it tomorrow"


"What good will sleeping on it do ?"


s,l:o5 tG M Won exnect to dream a for