Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1859-11-04

ing dark.
Her hands grew cold. Over her counte-
nance came that mysterious shadow that falls
but O. zee on any mortal face.
40, my boy my boy!" she whispered
tell him, they bent low to catch the fail
ing Words" tell him | will put light In
the window OF heaven, to guide his footsteps
there"
The thrilling sentence was hardly spoken,
when the shadow dropped from the suffering
face, and it smiled in the calm majesty OF
death.
Followed the funeral humble hearts at
tended the body of one who was loved Tor her
sincere goodness, all through the hamlet
and OH the hillside, in little graveyard, she
was buried.
Not many days after, great ship came In
to the port of busy city Among all those
who stepped from her decks, none were more
hopeful, more joyous, than young Henry
Locke. He had passed through the ordea
of sea life, so far, ulscahed. No blight
of immortality had fallen upon him. He
had kept himself as spotlcss as if at every
nightfall his feet had been turned towards the
door of his mothers cottage How his heart
bounded as he thought of her Strangely
enough, he never dreamed she might be dead.
1t did not occur to him that, perhaps, her
silver locks we're lying under the lid of the
coffin. o, no he only though OF the pleas
ant light in the window, that her hands had
trimmed for him.
Beautiful and bland was the day on which
he travelled again the long accustomed road
How pleasant now to 90 home with sufficient
! to provide for the comfort of that dear moth
err She should never want again. He
would take her to better home, and give
her the Injuries he had once longed to see in
her possession.
That old arm-chair-she should have new
one, easy in motion, elegant in material.
The faded shawl that he had seen folded nd
re-ioded year after year; the old-fashioned
bonnet, with its one band of Grape; these,
yes, everything, should be replaced by newer
and better. The flowers on the road all smiled
as he looked towards them; the very kline
seemed to him turning their meek eyes at the
sound of strange footsteps, to know that his
heart was glad with love and anticipation,
Hope on, dreamer Yonder comes one who
trudges OH laggingIy-a farmer, in heavy
boots and frock, his whip in his hand. he
cheers the lazy oxen, but suddenly stops,
amazed
81 see you know me, said the young sail
or, smiling. "Well farmer Brown, how
is"
Know ye? why, how tall ye are. So"
his eye drops, his mouth trembles-" so
we've got home"
Yes, end glad enough to get back again
-how's my mother?"
Your--mother-- he says it in that
slow, hesitating way that telegraphs ill-tid-
ings b, fore they are told in words.
Yes-is she well? is she expecting me
OF course she is; we're late by month,
full"
"Your mother, Henry, weIl-the old lady"
he plays with his whip, or, rather, strikes
it hard on the dusty road How can he
crush that happy heart?
There, you need not speak ?" cried the
young man in voice of sudden anguish
and he recoed, almost staggering, from the
farmers side, and buried his face in his
hands.
Henry. my poor lad, your mother is
Don't! don't " cried the other, showing
now face from which all color had fled.
80 my mother! my mother she is gone,
gonc--and am coming home so happy I"
For some moments he sobbed as i'll agony.
How dreary the world had grown! The
flowers had lost fragrance the sun warmth
his heart seemed dead.
Henry she left message for you," said
the old farmer, wlping his eyes with the
sleeve of his frock.
"a message for me? +" it seemed as if the
white lips could hardly speak.
eyes, says he-(so my dame told me and
50 the munster said tell Henry will put
a light in the window Of heaven, to guide
his footsteps there"
odd she, D, did she say that? God
bless you for telling me! All my long voy-
age have thought of the light in her little
window. / have seemed to see it streaming
along, along down to the foot of the hill, till
it grew brighter and brighter as drew near.
err A light in the window of heaven Yes
> mother, | will think still you are waiting fol
me. | could not see you in those long years
but knew the light was burning. / viii
come, mother
Slowly and reverently he went to the hill
side graveyard, and there he knelt and wep
upon her lowly grave. But not there, h,
thought her. A sweet vision was vouchsafeC
to him. All robed in heavenly garments, h,
; saw the beautiful soul he had called mother
: and, streaming from the brightness Of ho
: glorious home, slender beam seemed tt
Z r come trembling to his very feet. Then he
knew that the light was placed in the win
; dow of heaven.
Once more he knelt in the little room
where he had last left her. Nothing was re
, moved, but o, how much was wanting Their
on the window-sill, stood the little lamp
) that brought the tears afresh. But he tool
his mothers well-worn Bible, and, kneelin,
by the bed side, as if she could hear him, h,
sought her Savior, and consecrated himself t.
: life and work of righteousness. From tina
cottage he went out into the world, carrying
y his grief as sacred memorial, but seeing al
ways, wherever his work led him, his waitin
: mother, and the lamp in the window 9
;, heaven.
:. The Constable de Mentmorenci, dying q
II the battle of st. Denis, said to an mpertime1