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Show THE WORLD. AMERICAN FORK, UTAH, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER VOL. V. PRODIGALS RETURN. It came to pasa that there were bora onto Ezra and Lucy Whtttleay two boya, William and John, who grew to youtha estate on the old farm in Oakland county. John was a home boy. Ilia happiest days were those on which he hoed and weeded. With William It was different. He was like unto neither his mother nor his father. He was Just William. He read, long into the night, by the kerosene lamp In the sltting-roerstories of adventure and of youths going forth into the world in search of fortune and of fame. He longed for a wider Held. He dreamed of conquests, of piles of gold, of explorations into unknown countries, and of experiences in life such as never entered the mind of plodding John. He detested the sorry life of the farm, with the homely environment, the old, old routine, day In, day out, and finally, after several years of uncomplaining servitude, he determined to run away. He was 18 then. For two years he had saved every penny, every nickel, every dime that had fallen in bis way, and ere long noted that the dollars were taking care of themselves In a little company of their own. There were forty-tw- o of them in the Atone Jar on the shelf at the head of his bed. I will do It!" he exclaimed to himI will do self in the dim darkness. n, . His thoughts were broken in upon by the cry of a woman down below, at the foot of the stairs. William, William, its time to go for the milk. Ah, me! murmurred the boy to himself, another night has come. I must trudge, trudge on, through snow, through sunshine, and through rain, to that old farmhouse nearly two miles down the turnpike for milk. But this shall be my last walk William, William, ain't yew ever goln fur that mJk?" Again the feminine voice from the foot of the stairway. Tea, mother, Im cornin' now. The boy dropped all the $42 lnto his trousers pockets, and after placing the stone Jar back on its shelf at the head of the bed, slowly shambled down the crossing told him, there will be a train along for the West in thirty minutes. William Whittlesy had dreamed of Colorado, and twas there he meant to go. An hour later he was rolling on his way. And the years came and went Not a word was ever received, by the Whlttlesys from William. And after many months they came to regard him as dead, and no longer hoped that one day his form might again darken the kitchen door. With William all went well. He pushed his way West. He succeeded In his first venture, and five years had not elapsed before his name had come to be known throughout the mining country. Often he thought of that home back in Michigan, and frequently he said to himself, I will write. Then something would Interfere with the carrying out of his intention, and no word would be sent back. Thus the days, and weeks, and years sped on until a fifth of a century had passed. William Whittlesy had accumulated $100,000 in the twenty years he bad lived and tolled in Colorado, and one day the desire came to him stronger than ever to go back to tbe old home and gaze once again into the old eyes of. father and mother. So he returned. Alone and unknown, the man wended his way along the county road to the old house on the hill. He had crossed the lane below the woods when he recollected that pall of milk that he had hidden In the hollow log twenty years before. I wonder if the pall can be there yet, he said to himself, and smiled at the thought Ill see. He remembered the spot as distinctly as though he had but left the day before. He went to the blasted trunk, kicked away the stones, and moss, and twigs, and looked down. Yes, it was there; but in It nothing. He lifted out the old tin pall, its sides all full of holes eaten by time and rust, and continued on upthe road. I shall knock at the kitchen door, he said to himself, and when mother answers I shall say: 'Here Is the milk. And William Whittlesy laughed aloud. The house appeared unchanged. To be sure, there were honeysuckles growing up the back porch that had stairs. Theres th pall, William, said his mother, pointing toward the table drawn up by the kitchen window. William took It and passed out into the deepening darkness. As he walked down that road the whole eighteen years of his monotonous existence, called life, unrolled themselves before his minds eye. He remembered the old swimming hole, the eager hunts for birds nests In the days agone, the stone bruise he carried to school with him al lone spring, and the beech whistles he used to make at recess. And the squirrel hunts and the games of youth, all the different scenes of his life were enacted again for him in the playhouse of his memory. And at the end he said to himself: Well, it is over now, for to night I shall go away. Never, again will William take home the nights milk. This is my last walk. He stumbled along the rocky path to the milk house on Greens farm, and then he trudged back over that country road. The moon was rising. Already a soft, silvery light flecked the foliage of the woods on ths left, and cast shimmering shadows on the stone And William dreamed of the wealth ef tbs Indies that would ont day be his, of the fame, the glory, and the great good name that awaited him out in the world, beyond the ken of life on the Whittlesy farm. Suddenly the boy stopped so suddenly,- indeed, that the frothing milk slopped over the top of the pail and fell in two splashea one on the road, the other on his trousers. I. shall not go home. I shall leave now! he cried. He walked to the edge of the road and peered into the white lighted I must hide the pail, he wooda said, but where? For a moment he stood In the shadow thinking. The I remember! he exclaimed. old blasted tree trunk. I will put the He walked a few rods pail there. further up the road and then sheered off Into the woods. By and by he came out Into the moonlight again. He had carried out the plan that had suggested Itself to his mind. The milk pall had been placed in the old tree trunk. Then William turned and went back down the country road. Tes, the station agent at the AUG. not been there when he went away, but twenty years Is sufficient time for honeysuckles to live and die. William Whittlesy ascended the steps quietly and knocked at the door. old lady. It was opened by a kind-eye- d William thrust forward the rusty, battered pall and said: Mother, heres the milk. The woman looked at him with wonder in her eyes. Wont wont you come In? she said. William entered the room. It was the same old kitchen he had known when but a boy. And there by the fireplace sat a man, feeble, and wrinkled, and gray. Father, I have come back, cried William Whittlesy. The old man turned In his chair and gazed at the stranger unknowingly. Dont you see who I am? cried the long-loI have I am William. come back. I went away twenty years ago A peculiar light came into the eyes of the woman, who, during the strangers appeal to the old man at the fireplace, had stood still at the end of the table with one hand on her hip. I understand now, she said. William looked his thanks In his eyes. He was about to close his arms about the old lady when she waved him back. I understand, she went on. Arter you went away your mother died In beout a year and your pa mar-lie- d me. Then when he died I married George there, an weve been livin on th ol place ever sence. So yew see we aint your folks arter all, though likely es not yew may have some legal connection with us William put his hand to his brow and reeled. He staggered to the door Could Understand Why 26 HIS UNLUCKY DAY. KaglUh Culliar Always Breaks a Bone on That Date. One of the most conservative Jour- Aa WE BELL THE BEST nals in the world la the London Lancet, the conductors of which never give currency to extraordinary stories in connection with medicine and surgery until after careful Investigation has been made. Under these circumstances a narrative' suntrlbuted to a recent Issue of the Lancet bps unusual Interest, being so wonderful that without assured corroboration it would be set down as fiction pure and simple. The story is contributed by a doctor A man aged 44 and Is as follows: years, short and well built, was first attended by me on Aug. 26, 1890, for a compound fracture of the left leg, resulting from a portion of the reof or top falling and striking him while following his employment in Risch collieries. The patient made an uninterrupted recovery and was able in about six months to resume his work The patient's previous underground. history, told by himself and corroborated by others, is very remarkable. With the exception of an atack of typhoid fever, which he had when eighteen years of age, and two or three attacks of qulnzy suDsequently, he had not suffered bodily in any way. lie was always very temperate, and for about eighteen years a total abstainer. But his misfortunes In the mine were many and are remarkable from the fact that they all happened on the 26th Here 1b bis record: day of August. At the age of 10 years be fractured bis It happened on right index finger. 18 26. When Aug. years old he fractured his left leg below the knee through falling from horseback, also on Aug. 26. When 14 years of age he fractured both bones of the left forearm by stumbling, Ms arn striking the edge of a brick, Aug. 26. In another year, on Aug. 26, when 15 years of age, he had compound' fracture oj the left leg above the ankle by the toot beln& caught under an iron rod and his body falling forward. Next year, again on the same .date, Aug. 26, he had compound fracture of both legs, the right being so severely crushed that it had to be amputated at the lower third of the thigh. This was caused by a horse hitched to a tram of coal, which, running wild undergrond, caught him lh a narrow passage, crushing both legs severely. After this he did not work on Aug. 26 for twenty-eigyears, and little wonder, but in the year 1890 he forgot his fateful day and went to work with the result that he sustained the compound fracture which I have menAfter this tioned In the beginning. he has studiously avoided working on Aug. 26, though never mlsBlng work al other times. st 11 Th Source of Brltlnh Roast Beef. To the taste of the true British epicure there is nothing so delicious on earth as the roast beef of old England. It is cruel to dispel a deeply rooted national belief, and it would be unwise to attempt to do so on statements emanating from the United In this Instance our Brltlsn States. cousin Is confounded by one of his own favorite newspapers, and what it says about his beef will surprise more people than him. The Londdfi Telegraph, reviewing the Imports of last year, declares that the United States supplied of the cattle Imported alive; more than half of of the dressed meat; the fresh beef and more than of the bacon and ham. With these meats went also 61 per cent of the imports of wheat for the British baker and housewife. two-thir- Mens Shoes, Ladies Shoes, Childrens Shoes. Cheaper than any House in the World. EVERY CONCEIVABLE STYLE AND SEAPE. RUBBERS FOB YOUNG ANU OLD. EVERYTHING IN THE SHOE LINE. Ladies Oxford Ties and Slippers for Dress and Comfort. . scarfs, hosiery and gloves. It Is coming In on headgear for men and women. In the dry goods houses it is found in ribbons and the other trimmings that delight the feminine heart. The mills are beginning to turn out fabrics for men and women, and the serviceable, dull but withal attractive color promises to become a fad for all kinds of wear during the winter. Isn't Mrs. Tanx a stunning creatI presume she is. Her husure? band Is paralyzed most of the time. Indianapolis Journal Tn-g--R BOOTS, sTioES. Slippery. BABY SHOES' , If you want to save money, send lor our booklet, it will Sent Free for the Asking', explain everything. DAVIS SHOE COMPANY MONEY BACK SHOEISTS, SALTLAKBCITY. PE0V0 MARBLE WORKS ft. 8' Frieby Managfi--. IN MiNCVCTUREHS OF AND DEALERS and Headstones Monuments, all kinds A Battleship Gray Liked. 33132133 en$ and Children ds Battleship gray" is the newest color. The haberdashers have It In ties, 4 ntfs hs two-thir- 'l t.ATTmS' ds three-fourt- NO. r2 1808L If You were Acquainted with Our System You ht , walla sobbing, with his headbowsd upon his breast, he walked slowly down the old country road. And that night ho went back to the West. Detroit Free Press. 1, of specialty of cemetery work. guaranteed or mouey refunded. WEST OF TAVLOh. Material and workmanship Send for designs and prices rBOVO UTAH BUGS. XUBNITURE CO. Beesley Marble Works 0 Manvjartureri of 0 Marble and Granite Monuments, Headstones, Table ti, Curbing. Etc. NEW DESIGNS ANI) IIlGIi GRADE WOltK A SlMiCrALTY. TTUh - Provo. JohnPeters, Agent, - - American Fork, Utah. |