Page:Tom Beauling (1901).pdf/37

 low with age, and stained. In the center was an object in gilt purporting to be the ferocious head of a winged gryphon, the trade-mark of a once popular firm of photographers. Across the upper righthand corner a name and date were written, with violet ink, in a fine, slanting, feminine hand.

"There is a name written here," said Judge Tyler. "Did you know that?"

"Yes. I wrote it there—it's my son's name."

"Tomas Beauling," read the judge. "May I ask why you call him that?"

"I call him that," she said, "because it belonged to a brave and loyal gentleman who asked me to marry him, and wanted to take my sin on his own head. He is dead now, and I want my son to have his name. I know he wouldn't mind."

"I have never heard the name," said the judge. "I presume he was an actor?"

"I think he was," said the lady; "but the world wasn't good to him. You wouldn't have heard of him, though,