College of St Marys of the Springs - Yearbook (Columbus, OH)

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ww s ww a ww 5 ww , ww ,Wu , ww ww Q ww 1 go to a house, cold, and half-starved to death, it's the same way. What do they care if a man dies for want of food? They only say he is better off out of the way. But you, miss, have been different from the rest, and I sha'n't forget it. I am only a poor beggar, but if I can ever help you, I will, and be glad to do it. He then thanked her for his breakfast, and started toward the door, when a bright thought came to Marie. She would ask him to share their dinner tomorrow. Surely her father would not care, and might be able to find employment for the man. Tony was very grateful for her generous offer, and thanking her again, promised to return the following day. Thanksgiving day dawned bright and clear. The sun was just peeping above the east- ern horizon when Marie awoke, and hastily dressing herself, hurried downstairs to get her father's breakfast early, for so much depended upon her today. She was so impressed with the importance of it all, and so anxious that her dinner should be a grand success, that her face wore a very grave look which greatly amused her father. After breakfast, he was told very earnestly that he must not come near the kitchen that morning as she had a great surprise for him, and if he found it out everything would be spoiled. He obeyed quite meekly, after which she securedly locked the doors, to make sure there would be no intrusion. She hurried about the tiny kitchen in a high state of excitement, for work had begun in earnest now, and her father must soon see what an accomplished little cook she had become. At length all was in readiness, and Mr. Anderson, fairly loaded down with a large bas- ket, had been dispatched to the Reeds', so that their own dinner might be ready on his re- turn. In the meantime, their rather odd looking guest appeared and was given a comfortable chair by the fire in the cozy little sitting room, by far the best he had seen for many a long day. Marie had succeeded in interesting her father in the unfortunate man, and he had indul- gently submitted to receiving him as a guest and even promised to see what could be done for him, provided that he was honest and could be trusted. Soon Mr. Anderson returned, and the three sat down to Marie's long anticipated Thanksgiving dinner. It was rather an ill-assorted company, but a cheerful one neverthe- less. The table was bountifully spread with dainties of every description, to which they did full justice while, the praise they heaped upon the result of her labors, quite compensated Marie, and her mirth became so infectious that it even made Saunders forget his troubles for the time, at least. The afternoon passed quickly. They sat around the cheerful log fire, where Mr. Ander- son with kind words of encouragement and plans for the future, continued the good work his little daughter had begun and succeeded in inspiring new hope in the heart of the lonely stranger. It was almost dusk, and the glowing embers were just beginning to cast fitful shadows about the room. when Saunders took his departure, a far happier man than he had ever dreamed he could be again. Before retiring that night, Marie sat musing for a long time before the fire, thinking how eventful for her had been the past few days. She could not help feeling that Cod had been very good in permitting her to share her many blessings with others less fortunate than she. It was nearly midnight, and everything seemed peaceful about the little Anderson home. The father had fallen into a profound slumber, and Marie too, had forgotten for the time the lonely creature she had so befriended that day. The latter, meanwhile, had strayed only a short distance from her home, and had taken refuge for the night in a barn close by. Sleep was impossible for him after such an encounter, and it was only natural that he should think of the little girl who had shown him one ray of light after Years of darkness. 36

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. - 1 j swf ,lx 1 .lx 1 ,pu gpxwr j derful feast they were to have! The rich fruit-cake, she had baked a week before, and it now reposed in its covered brown jar on the cellar floor. She had had splendid success with her pumpkin pies and cranberry jelly, and the shining rows of fruit cans filled with every kind of preserves, waited patiently on the top shelf of the pantry. The most perplexing prob- lem of all was the turkey. It still remained to be dressed and stuffed and roasted to a crisp, delicate brown, the way her father had always liked it. Then, too, she must not forget the Reeds, they were a poor, unfortunate family, living on the farm adjoining theirs, for whom she had planned a surprise, which would bring sun- shine into their dreary home for a day at least. j While Marie was yet engaged with her preparations, she was somewhat startled, by a loud knock at the kitchen door. Her heart almost stood still, for she was quite alone. Who could it possibly be? Surely her father would not want to frighten her, and if it were any of the neighbors, they would not wait for her to answer the knock. Summoning all her courage, she went to the door, and cautiously opening it, found her visitor to be an old man, very poorly clad, and with a grizzled beard almost covering his face. It was Tony, looking every inch the tramp, he was. t Sorry to trouble you, miss, he said in rather a gruff voice, but could you give a fellow a bite to eat? I've come a long way, and. it's pretty hard when ,you're cold and hungry, too. A Recovering from her surprise and fear, lVlarie's tender sympathies were at once aroused, for she could see that the man was really in a pitiable condition. Why, yes, she replied at once, compassion overmastering fear, I haven't very much to offer you just now, but I can make you some coffee and toast-bread. Do come in by the fire, you must be dreadfully cold. Thus saying, she hurried about the kitchen, spread a :goth on the table, and soon prepared quite a tempting little meal. Saunders ate ravenously an when he had 5niSheCl, impelled by the unwonted sympathy shown him, became a little more talkative. . ' He told her of the roving life he had always led, and how he had become an orphan, and practically alone in the world, at the early age of ten years. He had wandered about: liv- ing here and there, selling papers, shining shoes, and doing various other things that would earn him a few coppers. Then the circus had come to town, and he had joined itg Hrst in the capacity of a helper, later of a performer: finally unfortunate circumstances had brought him to his present state. His whole story was told in such a bitter, resentful way, that Marie was greatly impressed by his despondency, and at once resolved that here was a work for her to do in brightening the life of this lonely creature, and convincing him that the world was not so heartless as he thought it. t While he still sat musing by the fire. Marie asked very gently, Have you always felt that you were scorned by all of your companions, and are you sure that it was not due to imagination on your part? t Well miss, he said, at last, It was this way. The boys were all right so long as I had money, but that was a long time ago. We had a good time, they helped me spend what little I had, but luck was always against me. . But did they not share with you, 'were they not liberal as you had been? Don't you think it, ma'am,'f he said, every one was only for himself, until one day the boss came to me and said: Tony, Youife too Old fOr this business now, you'll kill Yourself one of these days, and then I'll have to pay the damages. I ll have a new man on the job, tomorrow. So from that day to this, ma'am, everyone's been against me. When I 5 35 W

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ww N541 5 N541 2 KXWIC 1 ,twig V' LKWIC j 555546 255545 QWIQ, His thoughts still of her, he looked from a window of the barn in the direction of her home. Imagine his horror, when he saw sparks flying in the air above the little dwelling, and giving sufficient light to enable him to see that smoke was curling from beneath the low eaves. What could he do? Out in the country as they were, he knew there would be no way to fight the flames. The Andersons were evidently not aware of their danger: he could alarm them at least, and this he must do as quickly as possible. Having reached the door of the barn, he set off with his utmost speed in the direction of the house: and as he came nearer and nearer, the fire seemed to gain more headway with his every step. It seemed ages to him before he could reach the burning structure. Meanwhile he tried to collect his thoughts and decide just what he should do first. His duty was immediately pointed out to him, however, when he heard the frantic screams of the terror-stricken child, as she leaned from her upstairs window. Tony gained entrance to the house, by a window which, fortunately, was unlocked, and rushing into the room. was confronted by a cloud of smoke so dense that it fairly blinded him. Reaching the stairway, he groped his way up the steps which even now swayed from his weight upon them. lVlarie's cries had not ceased, and he could hear her calling her father. She was un- answered. The thick, black smoke had suffocated lVlr. Anderson and when she at last found him he was lying insensible on the floor of his room. At the top of the stairs, Tony called to Marie, and instantly recognizing his voice, she begged him to save her father first. l-le was loath to do so, but at her earnest entreaties, he lifted the unconscious man, and carried him down the already burning steps, and out into the air. He had just succeeded in reaching the head of the stairs a second time, when with a loud crash, they gave way, thus cutting off their only means of exit. By this time the house was fair- ly enveloped in flames, which were bursting through the roof and windows, their lurid glare illuminating the sky and surrounding country. i Imagine the feelings of the terrified girl. standing as she was, in the midst of smoke and flames with scarcely a hope of escape. She, at last, grew sick and dizzy, her brain reeled, and she sank to the floor, as unconscious as her father had been, but a while before. A few minutes more and it would be too late. Fearlessly making his way through the dense cloud of smoke, himself nearly exhausted, Tony at last found her. l-le hesitated a moment. Life seemed dearer than ever before. There was something to live for, after all: he had just dis- covered it, and why must he relinquish his claim so soon? But Marie must live, life was be- fore her, while his was almost spent. Too, he had no one to mourn his loss, neither was there anyone for whom he would so readily sacrifice himself, and he determined to do it. So gath- ering her apparently lifeless form securely in his arms, he placed one foot on the charred window sill, and in an instant it was accomplished, he had leaped some thirty feet to the ground below. i , Neighbors arriving on the scene found Marie only slightly injured. Her rescuer, how- ever, was in an almost expiring condition. I-le lay there motionless, breathing heavily, but with an expression of exquisite joy on his wasted countenance. They lifted him tenderly and bore him to the nearest Cottage, but just as the first gray shadows of dawn were stealing over the earth the brave spirit of Tony Saunders winged its flight to a better world and he had taken his last leap. 1 MAE Smm-1, 'I 3. 37