Santa Claus's Partner

traversed the intervening streets and before he was conscious of it was standing in the hall of the brilliantly lighted club. The lights dazz

be there. It was as empty as a church. The lights were all turned on full and the fires burned br

rooms. Not a soul was there. The rooms were swept and garnished, the silence and

big rooms. It looked like Wright,-the husband of Mrs. Wright to whom Livingstone had sent his charity-subscription a few hours before. He had on his overcoat and must have just come in. He was stand

was lonelier within than before. The hall was ghastly. The big rooms, bigger tha

deep tones tolled the hour-of ten. It was impossible! Livingstone knew it must have been hours

lady. Any one would have known at a glance that they were Livingstone's father and mother. They had hung there sinc

me a master. Livingstone remembered the day his

asked. "He perhaps has parts, but h

r. "Those who are known need no assistance. Help youn

and these early portraits were now worth-no, not those f

learned of his father's reverses-he had said he owed his life to him-and his father's reply, that he

as the same calm forehead, noble in its breadth; the same deep, serene, blue eyes;-the artist had caught their kindly expression;-the same gentle mouth with its pleasant h

ered Henry Trelane saying he wished he were an artist to paint his fathe

remembered that every one except his father had said it was a fine portrait, but h

ike both. He remembered it used to be said that he was like his father; but his father had always said he was like his mother. He could now see the resemblance. There were, even in the round, unformed, boyish fac

would not consider the cost. Why should he? He was worth-at the thought the seven

fied him. He felt his heart sink and saw the pallor settle deeper over his face. His hair was almost white. He was wrinkled. His eyes were small and sharp and cold. His mouth was dr

d the sharp figures would appear branded across those faces. But no, thank God! the figures

d and slipped to his knees. The position and the association it brought fetc

t was simple and childish enough: the words that he had been taught at his mother's knee. He hardly knew he had said them; yet they soothed him and gav

little child, the same is greatest. And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me. But whoso shall offend one of these litt

k of hate at him; the rosy-cheeked boys shouting with glee on the hillside, stopped in the midst of their fun, and changing sudde

Into his memory came from somewhere afar off: "Inasmuch as ye have done

ot retrieve himself? Was it too late? Could he not do

dren whom he had had a momentary glimpse of occasionally at the fashionable houses which he visited; but he knew them only as he would have known handsomely dressed dolls in show windows. He had never thought of them as children, but on

nk in dee

s father make long, long ago, came back to him: "Always be kind to children. Grown people may forget k

s: "If you have made an enemy of a child, make him your friend if it takes

little girl. Might she not help him? She

en did not bear malice: that was a growth of older minds. It was strange for Livingstone to find himself recurring to his fathe

late to see the little girl to-night if he hurried? Clark lived not very

it had been so dreadful; but he was relieved to find a pleasanter exp

tole down the stair; slipped on his overcoa