Eastern times. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1846-1857, 1853-06-09
THE STORY TELLER.
THE TIMELY WARMING.
'-s A THRILLING TALE.

ly forgotten. Read it, my boy, it will do you
good.
NV father, after an absence Of three years,
returned to the house so dear to him. He had
made his last voyage, and rejoiced TO have
reached haven Of rest from the perils of the
sea. During his absence had grown from
child and baby Of my mothers (for | was her
youngest) into rough, careless and headstrong
boy. Her gentle voice no longer restrained
me, was often wilful and sometimes disobe-
dent l thought it indicated manly superiOri
ty to be independent,of wOman's influence
My fathers return Tae fortunate circumstance
for me- He soon perceived the spirit of insub-
ordination stirring in me. saw by his man
ner that it displeased him, although for a few
days, he said nothing to me abOnt it.
II was an afternoon in October, bright and
golden, that my father told me to GO and get
my hat, and take a walk with him. We turn
ed down narrow lane into fine open feld-a
favorite playground for the children in the
neighborhood After talking cheerfuIIy on diff
ferent topics for awhile, my father asked me if
| observed that huge shadow, thrown by mass
of rocks that stood in the midst of the field. /
replied that did.
My father owned this land,' said he. : 1t
was my playground when boy That rock
stood there then. To me it is beacon, and
whenever | look at it, / recall dark spot in my
ife-an event SO painful TO dwell upon, that if
it was not as a warning to you, should not
speak Of it, Listen, ihen, my dear boy, and
learn wisdom from your fathers errors.
My father died when was mere child. /
was the only son. My mother was gentle,
loving woman, devoted to her children, and be-
loved by everybody. remember her pale,
beautiful face-her sweet affectionate smile
her kind and tender voice. In my childhood
loved her intensely. was never happy apart
from her, and she, fearing that was becoming
too much of baby, sent me to the high school
in the village. After associating for time,
with rude, rough boys, / lost in measure, my
fondness for home and my reverence for my
mother and it became more and more difficult
for me TO restrain my impetuous nature.
thought it indicated want of manliness to
yield to her authority, or TO appear penitent,
althoegh knew that my conduct panied her.
The epithet most dreaded was girl boy. |
could not bear TO hear it said by my companions
that was tied to my mother's apron strings.
From quiet, home-loving child, soon be-
came wild, roistering boy. My dear moth
er used every persuasion to induce me to seek
happiness within the precincts of home. She
exerted herself to make our freside attractive,
and my sister, following her sef-sacrlhclng
example, sought TO entice me by planning games
and diversions for my entertainment saw
all this, but did not heed it.
II was on an afternoon like this, that as
was about leaving the dining-table, to spend
the intermission between the morning and eve
ming school in the street, as usual; my mother
laid her hand on my shoulder and said mildly
but firmly, my son, | wish you to come with
me- would have rebeled, but something in
her manner awed me. She put on her bonnet
aud said to me, 'We will take little walk To-
Qether.' | followed her in silence and as
was passing out of the door, l observed one of
nv rude companions skulking about the house,
and knew he was waiting for me. He sneer-
ed as went past him. My pride was wounded
to the quick. He was very bad boy, but be-
ING some years older than myself, he exercised
a great influence over me. l followed my
mother sulkily, till we reached the spot where
we now stand, beneath the shade of this huge
rock o, my boy, could that hour be blOtted
from my memory, which has cast dark shad-
ow over my whole life; gladly would | ex-
change all that the world can offer me for the
quiet peace of mind should enjoy. But no
like this huge, unsightly pile, stands the mon
ument of my guilt forever.
My mother, being feeble in health sat down
and beckoned me to sit down beside her. Her
look, SO full of tender sorrow, is present to me
now. would not sit, but continued standing
sulIenly beside. alfred, my dear son. said
she, 'have you lost all love for your mother 9
Ibid not reply. 4 fear you have, whe contin-
ued 'and may God help you to see your own
heart, and me to do my duty She then talk
ed to me Of my misdeeds, of the dreadful con-
sequences of the course I was pursuing. BY
tears, and entreaties, and prayers, she tried to
make an impression on me. She placed before
me the lives and examples of great and good
men she sought to stimulate my ambition. /
was moved but too proud to show it, and re-
mained standing in dogged silence beside her.
thought, what will my companions say, if af-
ter all my boasting, yield at last, and submit
to be led by wOmanp
What agony was visible on my mothers
face. when she saw that all she had said and
suffered, failed to move me She rose to
90 home, and followed at distance. She
spoke no more to me till we reached our own
door.
1T is school time now,' said she. go, my
son, and once more let me beseech you to think
upon what have said.'
Il will not said /, with tone of def
'One of the two things you must do, Alfred
either 90 to school this moment, or will lock
you in your room, and keep you there till you
are ready to promise implicit obedience to my
wishes in future