The weekly Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1854-1861, 1859-03-24
CHAPTER ".

It was full three months before John Har
land set foot over the threshold gain and,
when he did so at last, it was as gaunt
spectre, crippled and deformed by rheuma-
tism in almost every limb. Towards the
close of a sunshiny September afternoon,
when the village was empty, every available
hand being engaged in the harvest-6eId, he
said to his mother, who was sitting with her
knitting in the open doorway:
"Mother, how long is it since Lima Fer
ME came to see after me ! haven't heard
her voice for days-weeks, think"
"Tt is weeks, John. Be advised by me,
and give up thinking about her." was the
pleading reply.
SIT is all very easy TO say give up thinking
about her but it is none SO easy to do,"
said John bitterly. II mean to hear my fate
from her own lips +; and, if you'll reach me
down my plaid, I'll 60 and see her now--she
never goes to the harvest"
"W ait u bit longer, John, wait bit lon.
ger-you can't bear anything yet"
"And you think she'll have nothing more
to soy to ME % asked the young man hoarse-
Iy
80, Johnny, lad dent look so wretched /;
she's never worth it. She's never worth
thy good heart ~
A miserable contortion passed over his
features as his mother uttered the last words.
| No one but himself knew what evil inten.
tions had been bred in that good heart, VIII ch
rnerciful Providence had frustrated
He rose with stick and etutch aud hobbled
to the door. o, what wreck he was But
not such wreck as he might have been if
God had left his strength unpnralyzed on
that terrible night when he went out intent
on shedding blood. His mother brought his
plaid and wrapped it all round him and then
kissed his salow, sickly face fervently.
"Remember, Johnny, thee has me always,
me that loved thee first, and will always love
thee best !" she cried, as she let him 60.
"Something tells me I'll have need to re-
member it, mother" he replied "but l can't
bear this torture of waiting any longer, and
Il I'll know the worst at once"
She watched him down the village street
and saw him disappear W thin Fernie's cot.
toge not five minutes elapsed before he
came out again. 1t was sad,-O, it was
more than sad-to see the painful haste with
which he toiled up the sunny, dusty street
His mother ran to meet him, and helped him
in doors, not thinking of questioning him, sc
terrified was she at the expression of rage
and agony that convused his features. He
dropped upon the settle, with groan, ant
hid his face. After moment, he burstintc
! womanish passion of tears, which shook
: his crippled form vehementy. The mother
I watched him, and knew what it meant. Tht
4 whole hope, dream, joy of his life was gon'
. from him--for ever gone.
It'was many weeks before John brough
himself to speak OF his brief interview will
, Lima he then told his mother what ha
t passed.
: "Lina," said he, twas sitting by the win
F.; dow, and she gave scream when she saw
b me. 'Eh, John, but what miserable lame
r ster you are = and laughed. I suppos
Q there was something startling in my chang
: ed looks. asked her if she meant to keeI
her word by me ; and her answer was, 'Nay
|, John, l never loved you much, end you mus
. be out Of your head to think I shall MARI.
/. you now = And so I left her, laughing a
| my hobbling walk. That's Lna I"