Jeffersonian Republican. [volume] (Stroudsburg, Pa.) 1840-1853, 1851-05-08
ofthe Interpreter,' as rclorded by Bum

up; but there was no news and nothing
OF interest for that father in the journal
OF that evening. He sat for some time
in an apparently painful revery, and then
rose and repaired to his bed chamber
As he passed the bedroom where the
little boy slept, he thought he would look
in upon him before retiring to rest. A
big tear had stolen down the boys cheek,
and rested upon it; but he was sleeping
calmly and sweetly. The father deeply
regretted his harshness as he gazed up
on his son; he left also his sense of du-
ty;' yet in the night, talking the matter
over with the lads mother, he resolved
and promised, instead of furnishing as he
threatened, to make amends to the BOYS
aggrieved spirit in the morning, for the
manner in which he repelled all explana-
ton Of his offence
But that morning never came to the
poor child in health. He awoke the next
morning with raging fever in his brain,
and wild with delirium. In forty eight
hours he was in his shroud He knew
neither his father nor his mothor when they
were called to his bedside, nor at any
mement afterwards. Waiting, watching
for one token of recognition, hour after
hour, in speechless agony did that unhap-
py father bend over the couch of his dy-
ing son. Once, indeed, he thought he
saw smile of recognition light up his
dying eye, and he leaned eagerly forward
for he would have given worlds to have
whispered one kind word in his ear. and
have been answered; but that CLEAN of
apparent intelligence passed quickly a.
way, and was succeeded by the old un-
meaning glare, and the wild toss of the fe-
vered limbs, which lasted until death
came to his relief
Two days after the undertaken came with
the little coffin, and his son, a playmate
of the deceased boy, bringing the low
stools on which it was to stand in the en-
try hall.
Il was with Henry said the lad, when
he got into the water We were playing
down on Long Wharf, Henry, Charles
Mumford, and |, and the tide was very
low; and there was beam ran out from
the wharf, and Charles got on it to get
fish line and hook that hung over where
the water was deep, and the first thing
we saw he had slipped off, and was strug-
ling in the water Henry threw off his
cap and jumped clear from the wharf in
to the water, and, after great deal of
hard work, got Charles out and they
waded up threw the mud to where the
wharf was not so wet and slippery, and
then [ helped them to climb up the side
Charles told Henry not to say anything
about it, for if he did his father would
never let him 60 near the water again
Henry was very sorry; and all the way
going home he kept saying
What will father say when he sees
me tonight! l wish we had not gone
so near the wharf,
Dear, brave boy p" exclaimed the be-
reaved father, 'and this was the explana-
tion which | refused to hear' And hot
and bitter tears rolled down his cheeks.
Yes. that stern father hbw learned. and
for the first time, that what he had treat
ed with unwonted severity as fault, was
but the impulse of a generous nature,
which forgetful Of self, had hazarded life
for another. 1t was but the quick prompt
ing of that manly spirit which he himself
had always endeavored to graft upon his
susceptible mind, and which, young as he
was, had always manifested itself on more
than one occasion.
Let me close this story in the very
words of the father, and let the lesson
sink deep in the hearts of every parent
who shall peruse this sketch.
Every thing that | now see, that ever
belonged to him, reminds me of my lost
boy. Yesterday | found some pencil
sketches which it was his delight to make
for the amusement of his younger broth
err To-day, in rumaging an old closet,
| came across his boots, still covered with
dock mud as when he last wore them
(You may think it strange, but that which
is usually so unsightly an object is now
most precious to me.) And every morn
ing and evening | pass the ground where
my sons voice rang the merriest among
his playmates.
All these things speak to me wildly
of his life but | cannot-though / have
often tried-I cannot recall any other ex-
preston of my dear boys face than that
mournful one with which he turned from
me on the night l so harshly repulsed
him. Then my heart bleeds afresh +!
Oh, how careful should We all be in
our daily conduct towards those little be-
ings sent us by king Providence, that
we are not laying up for ourselves the
sources of many future bitter tear
How cautious that, neither by inconsider-
ate or cruel word or look, We unjustly
grieye their generous feeling to action
against its motive lest in a moment of
excitement, We be led to the venial errors
of the heart, the punishment due only to