Litchfield enquirer., 1853-11-17
As I hurried away. | felt. I supno,e. 1

As hurried away, felt. suppose, as Cain felt when he murdered his broth er.-My father. my mother. and my sis ter had been kind to me. I had been Hnkind to them: and in leaving thus, felt as if 1 was murdeling them all. ] Had l been robber. l could not have felt rno,e guilty. But what do say that for was Fobberl was robbine them of their peace. was stealing thai from them that the whole world could not make up for them 1; yet on went Oh. that I could bring back that hour.
 The hills look as purple as they did when used to climb them. The rock. are ca wing among the elms by ,he church wonder if they are the same rooka l. There's . shiyering comes over me as get nearer home. Home I feel that there's uo home for me. N ,s
 Here is the corner oi the hedge. and the old seat: but my father is not in 1t. There Is the patch Of ground that my sister called her garden, but she is not walking in it. And yonder is the bed- room window. my mother is not looking ont of il now. That cty that cry
 see how it.is. There are none Oi them here. CT things would not look a they do. Father would not let the weeds grow in this fashion. nor the thatch fall in. and my mother and my sister would never suffer that straw through the bro. ken ppnes. ' III rap at the door anyhow How hollow t sounds Nobody s.irs. All is silent aa tho grave. I'll peep in the win dow. It's an empty house, that's clear. Ten long years! How could l expect ii to Do otherwise? ? l can bear ha,d work. and thirst. but can's bear tlis..
 The elderbsrry is in blossom d it was when ! ran away aad the woodhine is as fieth IS ever. running to tho window tbat my mother opened 10 call after me. l could call after her now loud enough to be heard mile. if thought she could hear me.
 Is's no use stopping here. I'll cross the church yard and see if the cle,k lives where he did but he wouldat know me. My cheek was like the e.rose when I went away but the sun has made tt another color. This is new gate. How narrow the path is between the graves !! The old sun-dial. l see standing lhess yet. The last time was in that church my father was with me. and the text was-- Ny son hear thou the instruction of thy father. and forsake not she law of thy moiher." Oh. what . curse we bring upon us when se dssPise God's holy wo,d!
 Ny uncle lies under the yew free. there. and he had gravestcne. Here it is-- It's written all over nov, quite to the bottom: .In memory oi Humphrey Elaycroft." But what is the name un- der ?--' Walter Haycrofl.' My father my father l 'And Mary his wife Oh! my mother and are you both gone !? Gods hand is heavy upon me l feel t with my heart and soul.
 And ihere is another name yet, and it's freshly cut. Esther Haycroft, their daughter. aged PA My father my sis> ter and my mother ] Why did not the sea swallow me up when I was wrecked ? 1 deserved it. What is the world 10 mo now ? l feel bitterly feel tlse sin of dis obedience the words come to me now i; !" The eye that Dockcih at his father, and despiteih 10 obey his mother. theFavens of the valley shall pluck 1t out and the young eagles shall eat it."
 But yet I recollect how my dear fa- lher and mother used to point me to the Lamb of God, which iaketh away the sins of the world. There is no refuge beside said mother. : Christ is able and willing to save.' I paid lisile attention lolhesc words once. Oh l nsyI never forget them now.