"in Pawn."

" Go, child, go. 1 must have drink. , I must! I must!" I "But, father, there is nothing lett to ' Dawn; everythingis gone." "No, ohild, no; not everytking. The picture. Go. I must have drink. I must! I say." Bessie threw herself before her fatker in ati agony of grief, crying: "Not that, father; no, no, not that. It is all that I have that belougs to rcy mother, and - oh! I would rather die than part with it." "Stuff and nonsense, child. It's worth money, and nioney will buy drink. Don't let it go too cheap; it's irth money, I say. Ye3," he laughed, 'it's worth money. I had it taken and set in the gold vvhen I didn't knovv the good of drink. Go," he said, sternly, "and no moro of this foolishness." "I cannotpawn the locket," shesaid, decidedly, as she rose and turned away. "Then steal the money, butbring me the drink. 1 must have it, I say. I'd pawn myself if I could. Go - tako the locket and bo gone, or I'll dash my brains out." 'Bessie stood still a moment, and then, turning to him with the tears in her eeer, said: "Will you kissme before I go, father?" "No, no; wait till you bring the drink. Go!" and he motioned her away with his hand. A few moments later Bessie was standing by the counter of the pawnbroker's shop, her eyes dry, but her little face showing traces of terrible suffering. David Downs was listonins: unmoved to a story of wretchedness and ruisery, but, though he was pronounced by all who knevv him harsh and cruel, there was, as there is with all of God's creatures, a soft spot in his heart, and that soft spot had more than once been unconsciously touched by Bessie; and vet it was still the harsh voice that turned to her when thev were alone and "Well, what uow?" She handedhimthe locket and asked: "How much would you givo on this?" He examinad il oarefully, lookcd hard at the likeness, and thcn said: "I might - -yes, I think 1 could - lend you ten dollars onthat. Wouldn't that keep him in drink some time?" and he ehuckled and turned away with tlie loeket. "Please, Mr. Downs," said Bessie, "I don't want you to keep it." "What, do you wantmore than that?" he asked, sharply. "No," said the child, looking up at him, "but I want to know if you won't give that on me. I oould take care of things, you know, and l'd try not to eat much. Oh! please do, Mr. Downs." It was curious to notice the expression on the man's face. For a moment he looked steadily at the child as though he were turned to stone, and then he took out his colored handkerchief and blew his nose very hard. "If I understand aright," he said, when bc again looked down on her, "you wish toput yourself in pawn." "Yes, please, Mr. Downs." "H'm! I never did sueh a thing, but if you wish it very much - if you would rather do that than have me keep this- " "Yes, yes," she said, holding out her hand for the locket. "I can't give that up. It's my mother'g," David Downs was a sharp, keensighted man, and, even before he saw the little mouth quiver, his mind was made up. "Well," he said, returmng the locket, "if I agree to put you in pawn, you must let me take the monev for you. You know you can't go back then." Bessie choked back a sob as she took the locket, but sho said nothing as she saw the money counted and a ticket prepared. 'You can sil down and keep au eye on the place till I come back. If anyone comes they can wait." Bessie longed to say something as David Downs went out, but the words seemed to stick in her throat, and he dared not say more lest he should be harsh and cruel, for his impulse was to do or say something violent. He made a long circuit and walked rapidly to work off his feelings before he venturinto tho presence of Alfred Holmes, for though he was accustomed to heartrending tales and scones, he had never been so moved as now. ¦Well, Holmes," he said as he enteved the drear and desolate apartment, "I suppose there is nothing" left now for me to have. I - " "H'm! What business is that of jours' Is the cnild coming with the drink?" "No. I have brought you tho money and the pawn ticket. See; this will lp.st some time," and he counted out the money as his companion's dull eyes brightened. "Ha!" he said. "I told her it was tvorth something. Why don't she come with tho drink? I'm burning up and must have it." "How much do you want' 1 will get t for you. Your child can't come." "Yes; get the drink. But where is he child?" "If you look at that cara you 11 see where the child is. She's in pawn." "H'm," said his companion, looking at him in adazed way. . 'Do youunderstandmc?" said David )owns, growing cxcited; "the child is n pawn "and you have put her there. Yes, wretohed being that you are! She would sooner die than eive up what you wished her to. So she has done tho next .hing to it- she bas put herself in pawn. YoiTwill have to sell your soul next. 1 am going for the drink," and bef ore lus oorapanion could say say anything he had left him. When, a few moments later, he retomad, Alfred Holmes was crouching in a corner, his wholo body shaking as thoughhehad a chil!. David Downs handedhim a drink without a word, but, instead of raising it to his lips, he put it down on tho floor in sueh a way that it slowly spread itself around and about him, as he held out the pawn ticket and the money, say ing: "You can send tho child back. l want her." "What for? To lead the life she has ed latcly? No, it is too late for tmit. see; the money is not all hore, for I have ipont some for that miserable stuff you J mvo sold vour child for." . : 'You must send her back," said tho ivretched man. "I will do anything you ask me if you'll only scnd her back. Íb pawn! in pawn!" He half rose as he spoke, aud trembled more and more as he tried to cateü hold of the pawn broker, who only lonked down on him with a frown, sayiug: "It is too late, I teil you. I cannot send lier back now, and you need nover come to claim her till you can bring proofs that you ean support her comfortably and do souiething to make her hapuy. Good-bye, Alfrcd Holmes. You need not come to my place for yonr child now, as you will not find her." Bcfore he could get out of the room a wild figure sprung toward him, and taking him by the arin, said excitedly: My ch'ild! my ohild! SeDd her back. I have got tho shiversl" and looking about him and speaking as though he were afraid of being heard, he added: "I am afraid to stay alone." "There!" said David Downs, shaking him off; "I will send somo one to stay with you; but you cannot have your child.1" For the first time in tho niemory of the oldest inhabitants the establishmont of the pawnbrokor was elosed for a whole afternoon. Indeed, David Downs could attend to no business until he had taken Bessie to the homo ho had in his own mind chosen for her. He left her with a kind, mothcrly woman, wno soon made her open lier young, sad heart and taku in the loare and sympathy for want of which it was starving. For three years Bessie lieard nothing of hor father, save that he was alive, for whatever else David Downs knew of him he kept to himself ; but at the end of that time a stranger presented himself to her who told lier hc could give her somc tidings of her father if she cared to hear them. ' An eager though sad look camo into her face as she turned to ask the question she almost feared to put, but there was something in the face that looked down at her so longingly that made her in spite of the snow-white hair, throw herself into the stranger's arms, cryinff excitedly: "Father! O father!" "Bessie." said Alfred Homes, later in the da}, handiug her a roll of money, "there is the money." Bess-ie knew what money he meant, but looked up simply and asked: "Have you the tickets?" "No. David Dosvns has it." "Then- then I am not- " "No, Bessie, you are not in pawn now, and you can do what you choose with that money." "Then, fatlier," said Bessie, putting her arms about hls neck, "wewill give it to David Downs. He wil] know how to do good witk it belter than we." "What is it? - my haii?" he asked, 'as he saw her looking at him curiously. It turned white like this the flrst month I was alone in the world, Bessie. But you and I must never talk of that time, little girl." A year later it was rumored that David Downs was fast making a bankrupt of himself and turning his place of business into a charitable institution. Wiso ones shook their heads and said hc would soon want a home himself, but there was always one who spoke up wheu he was near and said: "No, no. David Downs shall never want a home nor means of support so long as Alfred Holmes has two stroug arms to use in his behalf."