14

began to wear it, but she was not a mite notional
-— Mother wasn’t, and she was glad now that poor
Mrs. Wilson had the money and he had the beaver-
‘cloth coat. His face was begrimed with smoke,
his beard clogged with cinders and vapor. A lady,
travelling alone, hesitated visibly before she asked
a question, looked surprised when he touched his
hat and turned togo half the length of the plattorm

 

that is in a woman!

A MODERN HERO.

o

hevin’ thet boy disapp’inted every day I live. Come
summer, he shell hev a-run or two on Her every
week. Mother ’n me hes got to make up to him
for what he loses in not bein’ strong an’ like other
chillren. Mother—she’s disposed to spile him
jest a leetle. But dear me! what a fustrate fault
She did look good in that ere
red neck-tie, to-night, an’ she was always pretty.”

HE HELD FAST!

that he might point out the parlor-car. He observed
‘and interpreted hesitation and surprise, and was
ood-humoredly amused.

“T s’pose I don’t look much like what Junior

calls ‘a hero,’” he meditated with a broader gleam.
“What a cute young one heis! Please God! he'll
make a better figure in the world ’n his father hes
‘done. Ihope that lily-flower o’ hisn will be open in
the mornin’. ‘Seems if I got softer-hearted ’bout

The rain was fine and close, like a slanting mist
that pierced the pores, when the Express drew out
of the station, and as it fell, it froze. Stokes
growled that “the track would be one glare of ice
before they got Her in.” He was inclined to be
surly to-night, an uncommon circumstance with the
young fellow, and after several attempts to enliven -
him, Top, Senior, let him alone. He was notin a
talkative mood himself. The tea-table chat ran in