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About Daily capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1903-1919 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 21, 1914)
a HOME AND FARM MAGAZINE SECTION Little Fellow's Reconciliation By Alice V. Hall. ITTLE FELLOW was left at the Im breakfast table aloue. It was Dot the first time that his parents had quarreled and finally separated in anger. The outside door slammed. That meant his Dad had gone to his office. Thon away off in the distance he could hear his mother's sobbing. Dt was hard to eat. Things ehoked him, somehow, but he was Dot going to let Katie see that he notices anything was wrong. "An' all alone agin!" she burst ont indignantly. "It's a shame, Lit tle Fellow." Little Fellow shifted uneasily on his chair. "My dad had to get off early to his office," he explained hastily, his face very red and his mouth very full. "An' my mother She was sick. She didn't want no breakfast." He lingered by his mother's door on his way to Echool, his ear press ed close to the keyhole. She was sobbing yet. He bothered her. Still ho loved her a lot, all the same. Sometime, when she wasn't busy, she told hlrn storic3 lights. She certainly was "the's' with the stories. And one in a while he could coax her to get out her guitar and sing those soft, sleepy songs of hers. Ouee his dad had found them together that way. lie had stood In the doorway a long time before they knew it, mother and he; then he had come In, and lie had stayed! He heard Katie's steps in the hall, and drew guiltily away from his mother's door. Hut it was too late. Sho had seen him. She always did! She drew in her breath with little clucks of distress and handed him his lunch bo. "Thore, there, Little Fellow." Sho would havo patted his head if he had not artfully dodged and bolted past her. ' "Aw-qult," he said crossly. "Say, you didn't put in brown bread, did you, 'cause I halo it an" bananas, too?" Ho banged tho door as he went out, to drown Katie's reprov ing voice, then kicked viciously at' ihe graveled pathway. At tho corner he met his dad. A sudden sickening fear pulled his heart down until it felt sagged. Ills father was going home to pitch Into his mother some more, and maybe his own heart began a decided tattoo against his ribs. He had heard what people said. Just be cause he was little they thought he didn't understand what they said! They talked with big words, bohlnd their hands, over his head, and oven polled words, but ho knew. Ho "got them." Ho was six. They said his molbor and falher wore going nway from each other for good some day. Ho had a startling vivid pic ture of himself alono with Katie and hor pity. No, sir. Not mu.'h! Ho wouldn't Btay. He'd run away, too go off on a ship or something. fi lump acpt coming up Into his throat. It ached. "Dad," be ventured. His father was big bo blgi When he wn a man he hoped ho'd be just that big. Then unexpectedly his father bent down to hlin. One lenp and Little Follow was held tightly, with his own arms twined about his father's neck. "Whore you sola', dad?" he asked, "I was coming back for you, Llt tlo Fellow. I'm going to take you off with mo. Say we go for some hunting how about It?" The child' face flashed with Joy. There had been BUddon reconcilia tions like this before. Once, when ho was only four and agaia only last year. "Can I go with you when you toll hor?" he begged. "She was oryln' when. I left. I heard her Just a jmio, away low." A light crept Into his father's yes. Little Follow know that things were not rignt. "Oh! She. Well, I hadn't thought of taking hor, son. We're going alono, Just wo two luou, Wouieu don't Uko huiiUhtf," "But she does," he persisted bravely, the lump coming back in his throat to bother him. "You why, you taught her to shoot your self! Besides, dad, we couldn't leave her alone with Katie. No man'd do that." "Katie! Why not? She's a good cook." "Sue well, you see " He paused uncertainly, at a loss to explain, then burst out passionately. "I hate her! I hate her! She can't be sorry for me. Nobody can." "So she's Borry for you, eh? Be cause of your father, I suppose." He stood back, surveying the staunch little figure of his son. The child's face was raised to his. He was struggling with his emotions. "Oh, no, dad," he protested eager ly. "I heard hor say that you was as good-lookin' a man as she want ed to clap eyes on. I heard her. An' that mother was a dear, pretty little fool. It ain't that. It's cause " Ho stopped, groping for words. His father swore softly. "I see," he said. "So that's the lay of the land, is it? Well, we'll chuck Katie and get a Jap. Come! I'll fix that. But how does the hunting Idea strike you?" Oh, dad, could I have a gun?" he demanded. "A regular twenty- two? An' would you teach me to shoot?" "A go. Sure thing." The child breathed quickly with excitement. His eyes danced. "An' no school! G-e-e!" "Well, come on," his father said. "Now this very second!" The Idea was dazzling. For a second it held him. Then his face fell as sud denly as it had lit. "Why, dad, ain't we even goin' to tell her good -by?" Little Fellow stared up at his father, but the man's eyes were evasive. He had thought it all out They had had their last scene to gether that morning, he and she. She'd never let him have the young ster, though. He knew that. Luck had played him into his hands for a while. He would take hira. She could have everything else. "No, I guess not this time," he said abruptly. There was a long pause. The child dragged one sandaled foot back and forth, back and forth on the sidewalk with an irritating, grit ty sound. If only but nol His father wouldn't do it. He knew him. "Then why, then I can't go," he burst out decisively, regret sharp In his eager, fresh little voice. "I'd 'a' liked to, dad ge-e-e, wouldn't I 'a' liked It but it'd be too mean." The man whistled softly. A light came into his eyes again, not the flashing angry light that Little Fel low knew so well. It made him long to leap Into his father's arms. But he only drew a little closer. "I wlsh'd you'd take her, too, dad," he faltered. "I'd Jimmlny I'd like a gun!" A crowd of boys were crossing the empty lot across the street They called to Little Fellow. He backed away from his father. "I gota go," he saidr with a sigh. "It's 'most time for schooL Good by." His father watched him with In terest, watched him cross the street and join the swarm of loud-talking, eager boys, watched him until his little figure was swallowed up by a corner. "That'd be too mean," he mut tered under his breath, "Um uro, the devil!" Ho turned and went back towards his home. The roses were thick at the windows. They hnng down over the lattice work. He had trained them that way because she loved them. The windows In her room were thrown open. He caught a glimpse of her white dress. She was moving about the room, humming softly to herself. Then her Binglng Btopped. But a half hour later, when Katie shuffled by to listen, sh heard voices, voices full of life and woven in with a woman's gay laugh and a mVs hearty amusement Katie smiled contentedly. "The" dears!" she muttered, as she fell to mopping with furious energy. "The dears! But trust me it was ac count of the Little Fellow." (V? , tfi I V ""V ill V vV' v 'I Malt Rainier is the Pure Malt Tonic For Mothers Who Require Additional Nourishment and Strength. AflK TOUE PHT3ICIAM For Bait by All DiugjijU
