The Millheim Journal,
PUBLISHED EVERT THURSDAY BY
R. A. BUMILLER.
Office in the New Journal Building,
Penn St., near Hartman's foundry.
•1.00 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE,
OB IF MOT PAID IN ADVANCB.
Acceptable Comsponflence Solicited
Address letters to MILLHIIM JOURNAL-
Chiistmas Bells.
O list the joyful sounding bells!
What is tue tale their music tells ?
'Tls but the oft-repeated strain
First heard on Judah's star lit l>lain.
When shepherds, watching flocks by night,
Saw round them shine a wondrous light,
And trembling heard the angels say:
"Fear not—to yon Is horn this day
A Saviour, which is Christ the Lord!"
The Heavenly host with one accord
Joined with the angel, saying, them:
"Peace on earth, good will to men!"
No messenger in angel guise
Comes now before our mortal eyes;
Nor evermore In our dull ears
Shall souua a voice from Heavenly spheres;
Nor need we, like the men of old.
Wander to seek with gifts and gold.
The babe who iu the manger lay,
In David's city faraway!
Lu! at our doors he waits to take
The gift noue is too poor to make—
A heart which will His love receive.
And humbly say, "Lord, I believe!"
For this—the bells at Christmas ring!
"Good tidings of great Joy" they bring!
For "whoso' wilrat length may see
Htm who once walked In Uallllee!
"JSTUG^ET."
A CHISTM.YB STORY.
nW/Tiss Han ford's little village shop
looked uuusually festal just be
' fore Christmas, with its strings
of cheap, but brightly painted tin toys,
its gay cards, and wonderful display of
worstkl work, to say nothing of the ev
ergreen bush that adorned the window,
hung with a variety of tinsel ornaments
that glittered like silver and gold when
ever the sun struck them. To-day,
however, no flatteriug sunbeam dances
that way, for old Sol has hidden his
Tace beneath • tamvy ***▼ v%U, wad a
thick snow is falling quietly but stead
ily, as though it meant business, and
Miss Hanford's face is almost as gloom
y as the sky overhead, while she match
es crewels, and selects needles for pret
ty Mrs. Pulsifer, the Doctor's wife.—
'lt will be a white Christmas, after
all,' says that cheery little woman,
while the materials to complete her
husband's slippercase, are being tied
up, 'which, they do say, is bad for doc
tors.'
4 Yes, 'A green Christmas makes a
fat churchyard ;' and no mistake,"
sighs Miss Hanford.
'Any sort of Christmas makes a fat
pocketbook for you. 1 suppose," laughs
Mrs. Pulsifer.—''Not this year. The
new shop with plate-glass windows, up
the street, has cut into my trade sadly ;
but thank the Lord, Tom Tucker and I
don't need much,' and Miss Hanford
patted a big black and white cat dozing
on one end of the counter. "It is sort
o' lonesome, though, livin' all alone,
'specially about Christmas. Some
times I get dreadful blue, and down in
the mouth." —"No wonder, poor
thing! " rejoins Mrs. Pulsifer, sympa
thetically. 'You ought to have my
three young rogues ; you'd never have
time to be dull, then. But, good-bye ;
I mustn't chatter another minute ; all
the oddments for the stockings are to
be bought yet.'
'That's it!' exclaimed Miss Hanford,
as the shop-door shut with a slam.
'That's jest it! I'm an old maid, and
ought to be used to !ivin' alone, dear
knows ! butfChristmas seems to stir up
all the sociable feelin's in my nature,
and I'd a'most be willin' to give the
trade them plate-glass windows hey
left me, to hey a leetle critter to cuddle
up, and make just such 'a Christmas'
for, as Cy. and I used to hey, when we
were youngsters, in the old red farm
house. Tom Tucker, why ain't you a
baby!' to which pussy only responded
by a blink of his green eyes, and purred
harder than eyer.
'Tinkle-tinkle!' rang the shop-bell,
and two eyes appeared on a level with
the counter, surmounted by a shock of
shaggy hair, and a shrill voice piped,
'Please, Miss Hanford, ma sent me ov
er for a three-cent loaf, and wants to
know if you will trust her a few days
longer.' The little country store was
very mixed in its contents, and kept
bread and cake as well as toys and
worsted.
'Hey !is that you, Patsey Batt! Tell
me, Patsey, my child, how's your poor,
sick pa to-day ?
'Very bad ! Ma, she's been up with
him all night, and most cried her eyes
out.'
'Then you won't hev much of a
Christmas to your house, to-morrow ?'
'No ; ma says, Santa Claus sent word
be couldn't come this year ;'aDd a big
sob choked the child's utterance.
'Poor little critters!' muttered Miss
Handford, under whose rather stiff ex
terior beat the kindest heart in the
world. 'There, you take seed cake ov
er to your ma, with my compliments,'
and as the tiny girl opened her mouth
to express her thanks, she popped in a
sugar plum, and laughed heartily at the
amazed face that nodded good-bye, and
disappeared across the road.
'lt's mighty curious, how queer
things are arranged in this world !' so
liloquized Miss Hanford ; 'Not that I
want to question the ways of Provi
dence,* but there is Mrs. Batt, with
four youngsters, and not so much as a
peppcrmin t-drcp to put in their stock
ings ; and here am I, with a lot of
knick-knicks gettin' stale on my hands
(thanks to them plate-glass windows),
and pinin' to make 'a Christmas' for
somebody, and not a kith nor kin be
longin' to me, that I know of, for if
brother Cy. had a ben in the flesh, he'd
ft turned up like a bad penny, long be-
ifo IPllbetftt. §mti
R. A. BUMILLER, Editor.
VOL. 59.
fore this, surely ! It's a mystery, and
no mistake 1'
At that moment her eye fell upon a
card lying on the top of a pile of paste
board souvenirs, ard took it up. It
represented a lady and child feeding a
flock of robins, and below was printed,
'At Christmas, open wide my heart!'
'That's purty !' said Miss Ilanford.
It makes me think of the Christinas
sheaf we used to hang out for the birds.
They were uo kith nor kin, and if to
birds, why not to baits? Yes, I'll do
it!' and the happy thought fairly irrad
iated the rugged face, even as the gleam
of sunlight that just then shone
through a rift in the clouds made the
tinsel ornaments in the window spakle
and glitter like a hundred Christmas
candles. The new idea was more hilly
developed that evening over Miss Han
ford's solitary cup of tea and plate of
hot buttered toast in the wee parlor
back of the shop, while Tom Tucker
sat by, like his namesake, 'singing for
his supper' and keeping up a duet with
the kettle that hummed aud spluttered
on the stove, and to the good woman
their song seemed to be,
Christ mas comes but once a year.
But when it comes It brings good cheer.
And when the rush of Christmas Eve
business was over, the shutters barred,
and the quiet of night had descended
upon the little snowbound village, the
evergreen was removed from the win
dow to the back parlor and made more
gorgeous thau eyer with red, white,and
blue tapers, cornucopias, and a verita
ble St. Nicholas, with reindeer and
pack.
'I feel 'most as if I were makin' it for
one of my own,' said Miss Hanford, as
site surveyed the result of her labors
and tried on her nightcap ; there was a
happy glow at her heart as she said her
prayers aud went to bed, that lasted in
to the Christmas dawn and all through
out the service in the old, gray, vine
covered cbuich, although few had wish
ed her the season's greetings and no
gift graced her lonely morning board.
The overland express from the Pa
cific Coast, comes steaming and thund
ering along over a wide, snowy expanse
of flat country, and draws up with a
snort at a desolate little wooden station,
standing almost alone in the middle of
a great prairie. Eager passengers
crowd to doors and windows, glad of
anything to break the monatony of
their long journey, and the sight that
meets their eyes is novel enough to
keep tbem there. A group of miners
in rough attire, with bronzed faces and
unkempt beards, are clustered about a
little giil of some eight or nine years,
clad in a costume strange to the petlid
darling of fashion, but warm and com
fortable for that bitter wiuter weather.
A gown of coarse scarlet flannel, such
as mea's shirts are formed of, and a
rudely-fashioned fur coat and cap,
made by loving but unskillful fingers.
Nothing, however, can mar the win
some beauty of the little maid, whose
brown eyes aie dewy with tears, as she
clings round the neck of one of the
men, and holds up her lips, to be kisaed
by all the others.
'You will look after my gal, and take
her safe,'says the tail man who holds
her, with a break in his voice, to the
conductor, as he presses a generous fee
into his hand.
'And give her the very best of every
thing,' puts in auother, while he draws
a sleeve across his eyes ; *nothiu\ I
reckon, is too good for our Nugget.'
'The luck of the camp will go with
her, I'm afraid,' groans another; and
then the engine blows the signal for
departure, aud amid sob 3 and hand
shakes the child is lifted to the plat
form and waves farewell, while the
group of men shout, 'Give the little 'un
a send-off—Hurrah I for the Nugget of
Gold Ore Camp 1' and loud cheers a
waken the echoes as the conductor en
ters the pullman car, leading the wee
girl by the hand.
The passengers are deeply interested
and crowd round, to inquire the history
of the new-comer. 'She is not exactly
a passenger,' says the gentlemanly offi
cial, 'as she is sent by express ; but I
can't put her in the express car.
There i 3 her label ;' and he pointed to
a card tacked on the slePve of the little
fur coat, and addressed to
: "Miss Hannah Hanford. •
Hollywell, j
N.Y." I
'That's my aunt I' and I am her
Christmas present from Pop. Poppy
Sam sa>3, I can get there in time for
Santa Claus to fill cny stocking.'
'What is your name, little dear ?'
asked sweetfaced Mrs. Farnsworth,
drawing the little stranger to a seat he
side her.—'Nugget !'—'Nugget ! But
that is not a name ; have you no other?'
'Prize Nugget of Gold Ore Gamp 1
That's all, The men gave it to me,
'cause they say, I'm worth my weight
lin gold. Neyer had any luck at the
mines till 1 came there. Sometimes
they call me 'Nug,' for short.'
'What is your father called ; for I
suppose, one of these men is your fath
er V'
MIDLHEIM PA, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 24., 1885.
SB
'Tliey are all my Poppies : Poppy
Sam, Poppy Jack, Poppy Kit, and Pop
py Petei ; but big Pop Cy. is my real
true one ; and oh 1 1 don't know what
they will do without their Nugget 1'
And the bonny little face grew yery so
ber at the thought.
'Have you no mother ?' asked Mrs.
Farnsworth.
'No. She went to Heaven three
years ago, when the partridge berries
were ripe, and Pop Kit says, it's a nic
er place than even Itedskin Canon.'
'And you have lived with these
rough men ever since ?'
'They are not rough !' cried the child,
il.ishiiig up in an* instant ; 'they are
Nugget's dear, darling Poppies, and I
love them, and shall go back to cook
for the 'mess,' just as soon as 1 learn to
read and write, and keep house like a
lady and she burst into a wild Qt of
weeping, and was only pacified by
many gentle words and a sight of the
little curtained berth in the sleeping
car, which she was to occupy during
her trip.
The pain of parting over, however,
Nugget became as happy as a lark, and
the pet and plaything of all on the
train. Her little red gown fluttered up
and down the narrow aisle, like some
bright tropical biid ; her golden head
peered into every crack and corner, and
her quaint speeches were a constant
fund of amusement, while her brown
eyes opened in surprise at all t! e new
things she was constantly seeing and
bearing, for she was as simple and ig
norant, as well as tresh and sweet, as a
prairie flower transplanted from West
ern wilds. The great cities they pass
ed through were a perpetual wonder,
and she was ueyer weary of gazing out
of the window, until just as they left
Chicago, a heavy snow-storm set in, so
thick and dense as to shut out all the
scene.
It was very strange, whirling along
through this white mist, and gradually
the train moved slower and slower, the
engine seeming to have to work its way
through deep drifts, until on rising one
morniug, the passengers found them
selves at rest, and were informed they
had come to a stand-still in the dead
country, and could go no further until
the snow-plows which had been tele
graphed for, should come to dig them
out.
"We should be'in New York to
night,"said the conductor,"but it looks
very much as though we should spend
our Christmas on the road."
"Oh! oh! oh!" came a chorus of dis
appointed voices.
"To-night is Christmas Eve, sure
enough!" said Mr. Grundy,a jolly.faced
old bachelor, and then looked down to
see a dismayed litte face peering up
into his. "Well, Nugget, what is it?"
"Isn't that the night Santa Claus
comes?"
"I belieye it is! It's lucky he didn't
travel by this train."
"But he won't know where to find
me/" cried Nugget, in alarm; "lie will
never think of looking for me in a
snow-bank"—
"Sure enough; but I guess Aunt
Hannah will tell him you are coming,
and have the stocking filled."
"No, she won't; for she don't know it
A PAPER FOR THE HOME CIRCLE
herself. I don't b'lieve she knows
there's such a little gal as me in the
world. Pop said, she didn't."
"Well, that's strange; but, never
mind, Nugget will bo as merry as she
can, even if we are snow bound. I'm
going out now, to explore, and may be
I'll see a snow-bird, to send a message
to Santa Claus by." And the cheery
old fellow tramped off, leaving his little
friend somewhat comforted.
He came back an hour later, with his
arms full of pine, laurel, and holly, and
the ladies amused themselves in decora
ting the parlor cars, hanging wreaths,
in the windows,and festooning garlands
along the sides,until it was transformed
into a perfect green bower.
But Nugget was unusually quiet aU
day, although shs helped to bunch the
'greens,' and when she had bidden her
friends good-night, and was' tucked
away in her berth, sobbed herself to
sleep, overcome with disappointment
and homesickness.
"See, isn't that pathetic!" It. was
Mrs. Famsworth who spoke, pointing
to a little red stocking pinned to the
curtain of the child's bed, which she
had hung there in the faint hope that
the snow-birds might tell St. Nicholas
ot her whereabouts,
"Can't we till it with something?"
asked il/r. Grundy. "I'll drop a bright
silver-dollar in the toe." And he suited
the action to the word.
"They gave me some rosy apples and
a few nuts over at yonder farm-houae
to-day," said Fred Howell, and they
rattled in after the silver.
The conductor, who was a Yankee,
and handy with the knite, carved some
funny little animals out of wood, and a
young lady contributed a pretty blue
hair-ribbon, while, 10 crown all, Mrs.
Farnsworth made her way to the
baggage car, and managed to open her
trunk, and bring out a beautiful wax
doll that she was carrying to her own
niece. "I can buy Elbe another, in
New York," she said, and fastened the
doll to the top of the stocking.
Christmas dawned in a flood of sun
shine, and the occupants of the second
sleeper on the eastward-bound train
were awakened at an early hour by
glad shouts from section 7, where Nug
get was sitting up in her bed, investi
gating thetreasres h'dden uin her Santa
Claus stocking,and "Merry Christmas!"
resounded from behind the curtains on
all sides.
"He came; the good Santa Claus
came, after all!" cried Nugget in
wildest glee; "and L am sure, the snow
birds sent him and—good news—the
conductor told them that the track had
been cleared and that they would be off
in ten miuutes.
So this railroad Christmas was not
so bad, after all; for the travelers gath
ered together in the pinedecked parlor
car, where merry games and sweet
carols made the hours fly. Nugget was
the gayest of the gay, the blue snood
binding her soft yellow hair; and, hug
ging her first real doll closely in her
arms, never realized that she was an
express package, until Ilollywell was
reached just after dark. Jtfore sad
good-byes had then to be said, and she
was turned oyer to the tender care of
an expressman, with a covered wagon
and pair of prancing horses.
The cosy parlor behind Miss Han
ford's shop was a vision of comfort and
homely cheer on that Christmas night,
with the crimson curtains drawn, and a
glorious fire crackling merrily on the
hearth. And the well-washed faces of
the four little Bitts reflected all the
brightness as they gathered around the
simple Christmas tree twinkling with
tiny lights, and made their mouths into
round O's with delight. Miss Ilanford
bustled about like a motherly old hen,
passing doughnuts, filling mugs of
sweet cider, and distributing the little
gifts of which sue had robbed the store,
to gladden the occasion.
How the tongues ran! How Tommy
Batt beat hi? big drum, and Mat tooted
his tin trumpet! How Iletty hid behind
the sofa, to read her new fairy book,
and how Patsy caressed a coveted doll,
with rosp cheeks, wild with delight!
while Christmas cheer and charity
reigned over all.
'lt is a shame!" exclaimed Mat,as he
set down his mug, drained of the last
drop; 'every one has a present, except
Miss Ilanford; it isn't fair!"
4 lt is enough for me to see you so
happy at my little party,' their hostess
opened her mouth to say, when she was
interrupted by a tremendous knocking
at the front door, and hurried off in a
flurry, to optn it.
There stood a very large man and a
very small girl, looking like the big
bear and the little bear of the old fairy
story, wrapped in thiir fur coats.
'Here, Miss Ilanford, I've brought
you a jolly Christmas-box this time,
and no mistake,' said the big bear;
'express charges all paid.'
•Bless us, and save us!'cried Miss
Ilanford, feel'ng for her tpectacles; but
the man had disappeared and the little
bear was clinging to her skirts and
stammering out, 'You're Aunt Han
nah, I know, and please, I'm Nugget,
from Gold Ore Camp. Pop says, I'm
to live with you, and go to school; and
here is a paper to tell you all about it.'
Three minutes later, 3/iss Ilanford
was reading a letter from her long-lost
brother Cy., in which he begged her to
care for his motherless girl, crying and
laughing over Nugget, while she warm
ed the child's hands at the fire, and
feeling that she was no longer all alone
in the world.
Now I know why I wanted so to
make a Christmas tree.'she thought, as
the graceful little figure danced round
the evergieen.exclaiming with delight.'
It is ever so much prettier than the
trees In liedskin Canon, and must have
grown in Heaven, I am sure,' while
the quartette of Batts sat by in surprised
silence.
Aud then the quaint little child drew
from beneath her scarlet gown an old
blue woolen sock that was fastened
about lier waist. It was filled with
rich gold dust and ore, a gift from 'Cy
Ilanford to his dear sister Hannah.'
So M'xss Hanford had her Christmas
present after all, and said it would
more than make up for all she had
lost by the new store, while visions of
a plate-glass window in her own little
shop, danced through her head.
It was a perfect evening to all,except
Tom Tucker, who considered his nose
out of joint, and sang in vain for his
supper, until Hettie took compassion
i on him and gave him half a doughnut.
'Nugget said, she was 'so glad she
Terms, SIOO per Year, in Advance.
had come In time for a little bit of
Christmas, and the lovely tree,' and
when at midnight 3/iss II an ford bent
oyer the golden head, nestled in the
center of her big feather pijlow.she was
sure no one 111 Hull) well had so sweet a
Christmas-box as her precious little
Nugget from Gold Ore Camp. From
(lit American Agriculturist.
IT IS CHILDREN 'S D&.Y.
It is children's day. Heap high
the grate and send the sparkles stream
ing up the chimney. Let the roaring
flame outroar the chilling blast and
melt with Christmas warmth the
frosty breath of winter. forth
in generous store good cheer; fill up
the cup to overrunning with wine or
joy, let mirth break bounds, and give
free reign to all that buoys and lifts
the spirits to above the shocks and
weights of the experience of other
days. Where'er the family takes
sanctuary let God's love potir its
blessed light in radiance brighter than
in other days. Through the wide land
may a thousand times ten thousand
hearts fires glow on happy faces, and
in the genial glow may the world of
child-life ring with a music born of
happines unwonted. For one day let
the better angels of our natures take
the harp and make their sweetest
melody. Let not one strain be lost
nor one discordant note be struck.
Let all that may make merry with
gift and game, and greting and cheer
and kindly deed. One day out of the
year is not too much, but all too little
to give to joyous ministrations, but
however much it may and should be
made to be to others, its chief felicity
is for young hearts yet unwrung by
the cares of life. The green wealth
of the Christmas holly and mistletoe
harmonizes with the freshness of life's
springtime, and every memory and
association make this a May-day of
young experience. For joy and inno
cence are sisters,and they are child
hood's angels. The Christmas day
can be in its fullness what it should
be only as the children's day,and only
thus can all its meaning be unlocked
to older hearts. Give up the day to
childhood, and giving thus receive its
richest gifts. Make here a day to
hang in memory's halls a pictures
ever bright. Euwreathed in ever
green, brightenous with smiles of joy,
thrilled with the surprises of loving
ingenuity, crowned with gifts and
tenderness, that is the only Christmas
which is illumined by the beams of
gladdened eyes and made musical by
the silvery chimes of childhood's
laughter. Give it to the childrtn,
then, and make it all the heaven that
heaven-born love can make it.
WOMEN-
Women always show by their
action that they enjoy going to church;
men are less demonstrative.
When a woman becomes flurried
she feels for a fan; when a man becomes
flurried he feels for a cigar.
Women jump at conclusions and
generally hit; men reason things out
logically and generally miss it.
Some women can't pass a millinery
story without looking in; some men
can't pasL a saloon without going in.
A woman never sees a baby with
out wanting to run to it; a man never
sees a baby without wanting to run
from it.
Women love admiration, approba
tion, selfimmolaticn on the part of
others; are often weak, vain and
frivolous. Ditto men.
A women always carries her purse
in her hand so that other women will
see it; a man carries his in his inside
pocket so that his wife wont see it.
A woman can sit in a theatre for
three hours without getting all cramp
ed up, catching the toothache or be
coming faint for want of fresh air: a
man can't.
A woman, from her sex and charact
er, has a claim to many things beside
her shelter, food and clothing. She
is not less a woman for being wedded;
and the man who is fit to be trusted
with a good wife recollects all which
this imples and shows himself at all
times chivalrous, sweet spoken, con
siderate and deferential.
CHRONIC CATARRH.—I was troub
led witu chronic catarrh and gathering
in head, was deaf at times, had dischar
ges from the ears, unable to breathe
through nose. Before the second bot
tle of Ely's Cream Balm was exhausted
I was cured.—C. J. Corbin, 923 Chest
nut St., Philadelphia. 48-3t
NO. 50.
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they are held responsible until they have settled
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If subscribers move too: Iter places without In
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sent to the former place*, they are resiHm&ible.
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al Insertion ,
New Year la, ,
Now from every tower and steeple -rl ,i j
Clnn„ the bells with a, gladsome sound,
Showering down on the hearts of the people
The tidings glad ufa year new found.
Ktug auray sorrow and |*Un and eare,
Demons that brood o'er the lives of men.
Let not the sound of a world's despair
Fill our hearts with a deeper pain.
WW come and greetings: Of new horn year.
With thy fair white page on which to write
The manifold changes that greet us here,
Which our hearts In sorrow or Joy invite.
Write them down with a golden pen,
Hlcsetngs many and Joys a few.
Beek thy thought* from the hearts of men,
Who have dared to do right and lived to he
true.
Bet thy hand to rwires* each wrong,
And never falter iu doing right.
If to help a fallen comrade along,
Or do each duty with all thy might. J
Duties will come with every day.
Scorn them not if they seem but small.
Fvoin God no action Is hid away.
And He a recompense ftnd tor ail-
So write thy deeds with a golden pen,
Write them dowu for the boek of life
Write them down in the heart of men,
Aud be a hero tn every strife.
josisPt[ qoiiDjjvrq's
Gt[^|ST^aS.
/TT was very strange, thought old
/■IF Joseph Guiding, that be couldn't
" 1 be master of his own mind. He
had lived a great many years, and
neither remorse, nor memory had ever
been in the habit of disturbing him ;
but now it seemed to hi n as if the very
foundations of his life were breaking'
up. lie woa well through with his day's
work—be bad dined comfortably—he
sat iu an easy chair in a luxurious
drawing-room, whose crimson hang
ings shut out the still cold of the De
cember afternoon—he had nothing to
do but enjoy himself. Mr. Golding
liked to enjoy himself at this season as
much as others did, for it was Christ
mas Eve. What though lie was in the
habit of spending it solitarily ?—he
liked solitude.
For many years on Christmas Eye be
had sat balancing in bis mind the great
accounts presented in his ledgers, the
accumulating coffers at bis bankers,
the sti okes of business be would make
in future. Not so now. The year was
drawing to a close ; some intruding
voice kept whispering that in like mau
ner so was his career. He could not
put it from bim, try as be would. The
voice reminded him of a coming time
when his life's work would be all done
—even as bis day's work was all done
now—when be would be leady to Bit
down in the evening and look over the
balance sheet of his deeds, good and
evil. Curiously the old days came
trooping in slow procession before him.
And he had been able to forget them
for so very long I
His dead wife. Re had not loved
her much when she was with him, but
how vivid was his memory of her now I
lie could see her moving round the
bouse, noiseless as a shadow, never in
truding on him after he bad once or
twice repulsed her gruffly,but going on
her own meek, still ways, with her
face growing whiter every day. He
began to understand,as he looked back,
why her strength had failed ; and she
had been ready, when her baby came,
to float out on the tide and let it drift
her into God's haven. She had bad
enough to eat and drink, but he saw
now that be had left her heart to
starve. Heaven ! what a bard man he
had been ! He seemed to see her white,
still face, as he looked at it the last
time, with the dumb reproach frozen
on it; the eyes that would neyer plead
yanity any more, closed for ever.
He recalled how passionately the
three-days-old baby had cried in anoth
er room just at that moment, moving
all the people gathered together for the
funeral with a thrill of pity for the poor
little motherless morsel. She teas a
passionate, willful baby.all through her
baby-hood; he remembered that. She
wanted—missed without knowing what
the luck was—the love and sustenance
which her mother would have given
her, and protested against fate with all
the might of her infant lungs. But as
soon as she grew old enough to under
stand how useless it had grown
quiet, too ; just like her mother. He
recalled her, all through her girlhood,&
sby, still girl, always obedient and sub
missive, but never drawing very near
him. Why ? Because he would have
repulsed her repulsed her mother.
He could see it now. It was very
strange these facts should come back
to him to-day. and their naked truth
with them. He had beeu a cold, hard,
ungenial man, without sympathy for
any one human being; absorbed utterly
in the pursuit of money-making. And
so the child, Amy, had grown up with
out him.
But suddenly, when she waseighteen,
the old,passionate spirit that had made
her cry so when a baby must £have
awakened agaio, he thought; for she
fell in love then, and wished to marry.
To marry in defiance of hie wishes.
He remembered her standing proudly
before him after one of their quarrels,
where he had been harsh and bitter,and
abusive of the man she wanted to call
husband. She had borne in silenoe re
proach of herself; but not of him who
bad become to her as her best exist
ence. Her words came back to the old
man now.
(Continued on fourth page.)