WHY SHE DID NOT DINE ON THE TRAIN.
A PATHETIC little incident occurred not long ago on a Michigan Central train, and the Chicago Tribune thus tells it:— A tall, fine-looking young man and a handsomely dressed woman sat just in front of a plainly dressed, sweet-faced lady of perhaps seventy years. Once in a while—pretty often—the man turned and made some remark to the elderly woman, whom he called mother, and whose eyes showed that she was proud and fond of her son. The younger woman, his wife, seemed somewhat less cordial; but she, too, once in a while, turned and dropped a word or two into the conversation. By and by the porter announced that dinner was ready in the dining-car, and the young man said:— "Well, mother, Emma and I will go now and get a dinner. You know she needs something warm. You have brought your luncheon, and I'll send you a cup of tea." After the couple had gone, "mother" sat looking out of the window in deep thought, apparently, and perhaps not altogether happy. Finally she reached under the seat, and brought out a little worn, black basket, and began fingering the ribbon with which it was tied. Just then the train stopped at a station, the door was flung open, and a cheery-faced man stepped inside. He looked eagerly up and down the car, and his glance fell upon the old lady. "Mother!" he cried. "John, my John!" answered the lady, and the two were clasped in a loving embrace. "Where are Frank and Emma?" he demanded after a few moments. "They have gone into the dining-car. Emma isn't strong, you know, and has to have a hot dinner." This last remark she repeated in answer to a curious look in John's eyes. "And you didn't want any dinner, I suppose?" His eyes fell upon the basket. He mustn't hurt his mother's feelings, and he checked himself. "Aren't you glad to see me?" he said. "Aren't you surprised? I found I could meet you here instead of waiting until you reached Chicago. And say, mother, isn't that the same basket that Frank and I used to carry to school? Yes, I thought so." By this time there was a smile on the mother's face. "Well," said John, "I'm pretty hungry. Suppose we keep this for supper, and you come with me and get a hot dinner. No; no excuses." As they left they met the other couple. "Hello, John! Where did you come from?" "How do you do, Emma? Mother and I are just going to dinner." At Chicago the people who had seen all this saw a handsome young man, with a little black13basket on his arm, tenderly assisting a sweet-faced old lady through the crowd to a carriage. As for the other couple, nobody had any eyes for them.