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Newspaper Page Text
mmmmmmmmmm FROM OUT OF THE PAST By Charles' L. Doyle. As the train rolled steadily on its way, Horace Leith leaned upon the car window sill gazing out upon the New England land scape. There was nothing par ticularly attractive in the pros pect, but it was many years since he had taken this route which led to his old village home of Chelsea, and he was endeavoring to recall certain features of the journey which had once been familiar. It was a far cry from those old days to the present, when he had gain ed recognition as a successful business man in New York. Suddenly his musings were in terrupted by a jerk of the car and the sharp call of the brakeman for another station. He turned around and watched the passen "gers who were entering and leav ing the car. A slight woman with a baby in her arms, attired in black, took the seat directly in front of him and drew his atten tion for a moment. The train started again, and he leaned back in his former position. Present ly the baby climbed back on the seat, in one hand a rubber doll and the other clutching the plush cushion. In her efforts to at tract Leith's attention the doll fell to the floor and two red little lips issued an imperious command : "Man, get baby doll," she lisp ed, and Leith, reaching down, obeyed the mandate. When he returned the doll the owner smil ed rapturously. She was a very attractive child and Leith settled himself to watch her and listen to I the prattle she poured out in broken sentences. Glancing at the mirror in front of him, he became aware that he could obtain a full view of the fig ure of the baby's mother therein. Her face, however, was partially hidden by a crepe veil. After awhile she appeared to grow rest less and threw back the veil, dis closing two flushed cheeks and a pair of dark blue eyes drooping under long lashes. It was a gen tle and singularly beautiful face. Almost unconsciously he moved a little closer so as to observe her better. A chord in his memory seemed to have been touched. Surely he had seen her some where before. When and where could it have been? Not on the t stage or in a picture, he felt cer tain. ' He thought long and earn estly, but the riddle remained un solved. Then by different chan nels his mind traveled back through the years, to the home of his boyhood, the little village, the river he used to swim in and his farewell'to Chelsea. And at this point memory sup plied the missing link. It was she Lucy Mayburn the sarne little girl he had loved so long ago. He mused on, thinking ten derly of the night he left for the great city, when he kissed her good-bye and promised some day to claim her as his wife. Heeven recalled the tears that glistened on her face under the starlight of, his Jast hours at home. A mist ob scurea nis vision ana sometning suspiciously like a sob lingered ir his throat. Ten years had gassed.!