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Various

"Stories by American Authors, Volume 1"


After the performance I hurried around the tent, and you may be sure
there was rejoicing that made the manager and other fellows laugh.
George haled me off with him down the street. He cleared the ground with
that crutch and wooden leg like a steam-engine. "Come! come along!" he
cried; "I've something to show you, Loper."
He took me to a quiet boarding-house, and there, in a cosey room, was
Susy with a four-year-old girl.
"We were married as soon as I could hobble about," he said, "and she
goes with me and makes a home wherever I am."
Susy nodded and blushed and laughed. "Baby and I," she said. "Do you see
Baby? She has her father's eyes, do you see?"
"She _is_ her mother, Loper," said George--"just as innocent and pure
and foolish--just as sure of the Father in heaven taking care of her.
They've made a different man of me in some ways--a different man,"
bending his head reverently.
After a while I began, "You did not stay with--?" But Balacchi
frowned. "I knew where _I_ belonged," he said.


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