BREAD UPON THE WATERS.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8165, 23 June 1906, Page 7

BREAD UPON THE WATERS.

By Emma Garrison Jones.

"Only five dollars left I" Mrs Grayson smoothed out the crisp, green bill in her fingers and sat down before he waning fire with a dreary sigh. Only five dollars left. The last bill of the poor husband's wages, and lying in the little baok bedroom, with his shoulder dislocated with a bad fall—down lor the winter so the dootor said. A dreary prospeot truly. The poor mother folded and unfolded the bank-note bill in her tired fingers, irresolutely, and the tears rose in her eyes as she glauoed towards the half-cloeed room in whioh her husband lay. She caught the sound of his voice moaning as if in pain, and started to her feet. He must have food and medicine, andjhe wintry night jwas closing in. She caught up her shawl and hurried oat closing the door behind her. Down the frozen, ioy street, the'keen blast driving the sleet and rain into I hoc fans, into the low, noisome t led to the coal-yards. She was passing a restaurant, and jj a cry prooeeded from its door, about which a group of degraded and besotted meu were congregated. Mrs Grayson paused almost in voluntarily in her rapid walk. "Oh, don't —don't take my boy to gaol; he's innocent—l tell you he's innooentl' oried a woman's voice in imploring aocents; and at the same moment the woman herself came into view, a poorly olad but [deOent-looking person, with a sturdy little lad dinging to her hand. "1 tell you my boy is innocent —he never stole your money, and you shan't take him to gaol" she oried in piteous accents, trying to get her sou through the crowd. Bat a policeman followed in her stepß, and the keeper of the vile den rushed out In front of her with olenuhed fists and gluring eyes. "And 1 tell you he shall go to gaol!" he thundered. "He's got my money, the young sneak, and he wont give it up. He's stole my money and he shall go." "I diJn't steal your money, sir, " replied the lad, his clear yoang eyes blazing with |indignation, "1 didn't touch " it"—you know I didn't. I'm not a thief." "Silence!" roared the dealer in ram. Don't stand there and tongue me. Offiaer, do your duty. Arrest him!" The officer laid his hand on the boy's arm. "Oh, don't! Ob, for the-love of Heaven don't take him fr"m me!

He's all I've got, and to-morrow - his father oomes home from over the seaa. 'Twill break his heart to find bis only son in gaol. Don't take him from mel" The landlord bad a heart, bat it was a terribly hard one. Yet the mother's piteous appeal touched his heart, fie turned and looked at her with his bleared eyes. "Gi' back my money then, and he may go free," he said sullenly. Bnt the poor mother only wrung her hatids in answer. "I"haven't got it," she cried. "1 haven't got five dollars iu the wide world; bat wait till 1 run home and I'll sell the last thing 1 own to raise it and .keep my boy from prison." Mrs Grayson had heard the whole standing in the bitter winter rain. She advanced to tbe, poor mother's side, and put her hand on her arm. "My friend," she said, "X wish I could help you, tut 1 am poor myself. Nt why did you permit your boy to come near this dreadfal place?" 'Ay, why did I?" wailed the poor creature. "When the father was at home he never tasted a drop, and he'd shdn a grog shop like a snake's deU; but he's gone over-seas, the father has, and we got short of bread, and the little mouths at home were hungry, and poor Johnnie tried to help a bit doing chores for the landlord yonder. And now he calls him a thief and Bends him to gaol, and his father lying in iicston harbour. Oh, they shan't take him from me. Madam, for Heaven's sake, if you have a son of your own, pity me." Involuntarily she put her hand in her pocket, where the fivedollar bill hy. The mother oaught the movement and her face lit with sudden hope. "Oh, madam," she sobbed, "I'm not a beggar, but save my boy from prison, and I'd nay it back to you I would indeed." "Don't stand here before my door,'! bawled tbe rum-seller. "Officer, will you do your duty?" Lizzie Grayson saw the policeman's hand descend upon tbe lad's arm; and she tbtrust her hand deep in her , pocket and, drawing out tbe note, her last five-dollar bill, thrust it into the woman's hand. Then she fled away as fast as her feet could oarry her. She paused at last, breathless and cold, in front of her own cottage. The December storm raged with pitiless fury the sleet and rain beat in her face. What should she do? She had not a cent in the wide world, and her siok husband lay suffering for food and -medioine. What had she done?

And making her way into the cottage again, she tip toed into the lit tie bedroom where her husband lay, and, opening a little drawer, fragrant with the scent of faded roses, she gathered op her few souvenirs and simple love-gifts; and, dropping tear and a kiss upon her husbandV face, she started forth again. At a pawnbroker's dingy den, in the low haunts of the town, she left her girlhood's treasures, receiving enough in their stead to supply her immediate needs; and returning home, she sat down to pass the dreary, endless night in weary stitohing. Christmas Eve name and closed with a olear, cold night. , !Kie, little curly heads wera snugly pillowed in the trundle-bed filled with' happy dreams of Christ-' mas toorn'ing, : and out under the oold, Ohriptmas stars tbe poor mo-, ther wandered. A mite of coal, a mite of tea, a few loaves, a pair of shoes for Georgi©—poor little Oassiei- must wait-* and she must have a ohloken for her husband's soup. Under the flaring gaslight* jo|Hed l>y the happy people who thronged the , streets, she paused and counted her little all.

I "John, John, that's her 1" whispered a woman close by, catohing at the arm of a great, burly man, who carried a well-filled basket on bis arm; "follow her quick." The night was waning rapidly, and so was the fire, yet Lizzie Grayson's needle never tired. She sat and worked, and watched for the'J dawning of Christmas morn. The three little curly heads dreamed oa their pillows, and the sick husband tossed restlessly on his oouoh of pain. A rap, surely! and at that late hour! Mrs Grayson arose with a startled look in her eyes. But she unlocked the door and opened it. A man in a heavy overcoat stood on the steps with an immense hamper on his brawny shouldors. fie made an awkward bow and looked up with a pair of kind, brown eyes. "Madam," he stammered, "1 beg your pardon, but we've took the liberty, me and my wife, to —to —well—oh, oonfound it! I never could make no band of talking. Jane, you must speak for jourself." Whereupon he put down the Hamper and baoked out, allowing Jane to enter. She did so in haste and oaugbt the astonished Mrs Urayson in her arms. "I've'found you," she sobbed—"thank Heaven I've found you at last. We've looked for you every day for a round week—John and me —and only stumbled on you at the market to-nigbt. You saved my boy from prison," she went on with increasing excitement. "I | think I should have died if they'd taken him from me that night. And he's innocent, too, ma'am, as I told ye; its been proved that the barmaid stole the money. My lad's innocent, and father's come home from over the seas and brought good luok to us. He's come home a rioh manJohn has—and seeing as you dun e me a good turn in my sore need—wbll, I hope you won't take affrontbut we've brought you a little something to make Christmas pleasant for you. Bring ip the hamper, John." Mrs Grayson, uiterly overwhelmed, sank into a seat, sobbing like a child, while John deposited the great hamper at her feet. "My husband lies ill in yonder room, and did not know "'she Degan; but the sailor's wife out her short with a gesture. "But God did," she pat in. "He knows how to help his own. John, the la.ly's husband lies in there sick; step in light, man, and look to him. John is a rare nurse, ma'am, great lumbering fellow as he is. And, now, we'll get these things put away before the little ones wake. ' When all the articles were stowed away, and John stood ready to depart, his wife turned baok at the door "Take this," she said, slipping a little package in Mrs Grayson's hand "Ye cast yer breed upon the waters, and God has sent it baok to ye." And, sitting before her glowing fire while the chickens cooked and the fragrant tea steeped and the happy Christmas morning dawned above the eastern bills waiting for her husband and ohildren to awake Lizzie Grayson unfolded the package and found within twenty crisp five-dollar bills—the interest; of her loving deed of charity.