In the northern part of Austin there once dwelt anhonest family by the name of Smothers. The familyconsisted of John Smothers， his wife， himself， their littledaughter， five years of age， and her parents， making sixpeople toward the population of the city when countedfor a special write-up， but only three by actual count.
One night after supper the little girl was seized with asevere colic， and John Smothers hurried down town to getsome medicine.
He never came back.
The little girl recovered and in time grew up to womanhood.
The mother grieved very much over her husband’sdisappearance， and it was nearly three months before shemarried again， and moved to San Antonio.
The little girl also married in time， and after a few yearshad rolled around， she also had a little girl five years ofage.
She still lived in the same house where they dwelt whenher father had left and never returned.
One night by a remarkable coincidence her little girlwas taken with cramp colic on the anniversary of thedisappearance of John Smothers， who would now havebeen her grandfather if he had been alive and had a steadyjob.
“I will go downtown and get some medicine for her，”
said John Smith （for it was none other than he whom shehad married）.
“No， no， dear John，” cried his wife. “You， too， mightdisappear forever， and then forget to come back.”
So John Smith did not go， and together they sat by thebedside of little Pansy （for that was Pansy’s name）.
After a little Pansy seemed to grow worse， and JohnSmith again attempted to go for medicine， but his wifewould not let him.
Suddenly the door opened， and an old man， stooped andbent， with long white hair， entered the room.
“Hello， here is grandpa，” said Pansy. She had recognizedhim before any of the others.
The old man drew a bottle of medicine from his pocketand gave Pansy a spoonful.
She got well immediately.
“I was a little late，” said John Smothers， “as I waited fora street car.”
