Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1859-11-04
The Widows Only Son.
By MRS. NJ. A. DENNIsoN.

| can be | promise you that"
The boy lifted his head. A look Of high
resolve made the young brow manike in ex-
preston. Not yet had ten summers deep
eucd the gold on those fair locks. The earn
est blue eye looked fondly in the faded face
that bent over him. There was world Of
love in his soul-a love that was not only
lip.deep-but was proved by acts of selt-de-
NAL
They were poor that mother and SON
O, how poor they were You could almost
see how poverty had drfted over everything
about them-whitely over the pine chairs
and tables-driited over the humble quilt
that had grown so taded-drifted over their
clothes and through them, till patch after
patch was placed on the sad havoc that pitt
less, drifting want had made.
But in holy heart.love they were richer
than the Rothschlds; yes, out of their bank
in heaven--that bank-directors here might
sheer at-they drew every day, every hour,
uncounted treasure.
Mother, I will be everything to you that
1 can be; | promise you that"
The words are beautiful enough to be e.
peated. Henry Locke smiled, because as he
spoke there came tears to his mothers eyes.
He had that morning been promised place
in country store, five miles from the cot,
or rather cabin, where they lived. 1t was
but small pittance, but of late the mother
had grown so feeble that she could earn
nothing; could scarcely do the little that
order and neatness called for at her hands.
One dollar week 1t was a very small
sum, but better, much better, than nothing.
Besides, Henry was to have his meals with
his employer, and could, if he choose, sleep
there But he did not choose. For glad
smile from mother; for a pressure of that
feeble hand for the tender, Christian words
that came from those pale lips, he was brave
ly willing after his hard days work, to walk
the five miles. dark aud tedious though the
way was. Often he came, bringing some
little delicacy that he had earned, and which
was sweet to the invalid, because he brought
it.
One night the sky was curtained with
clouds The widow looked from her window
facing the hilly-road along which the hay
wagons went 90 their way to the city, and
said, as she saw the twilight deepening
earlier than its wont " He will not come to.
night"
No; he would not come that night. The
wind blew fercely and sent the branches Of
the old apple-tree rafting against the clap
boards and threw the rain, as with spite,
over the little windows, sheeting them, and
making dreary music. So the widow, quite
confident that Henry would not venture in
that storm, read her Bible till her heart kin
died with the holy words, and putting out
her little light, went to her rest.
She knew not how long she had slept, when
voice awakened her. The sweet voice, SC
dear to her. was crying Mother! mother
At first she thought it a dream, but listening
intently, she heard, blending with the wall Of
the wind that cry, and a sound against the
latch greeted her, Instantly rising, she crop
ed for light, unfastened the door, and, be-
hold, there stood Henry, piteous sight, in
deed, covered with mire, literally, from heac
to foot His face was wet, but the honest
happy smile was no ways abated.
"My boy how could you come on such q
night ? " exclaimed the widow.
Why, mother storm couldn't keep me
from you,' was his hearty response. I've
had the greatest time though, yon ever did
see-lost my way got into il a creek, and ii
must be midnight-but | meant to come, for
S. gave me triae over tonight, and | knew
how much you needed it,
"My dear boy sprang from the mother
full heart, with tear or two that tricklet
down her pale cheeks.
81 wonder haven't thought BEFORE she
said musingly, After this, Iii put igh
in the window. To be sure,it won't show far
but when you get to the top of the hill, il
will be pleasant to see it, and know that
am watching for you"
For three years the little lamp was place.
in the window every night People Otter
remarked it, and "aS bright as mothe
Locke's window became favorite saying.
At the end of that time, young Henry wa
offered good chance on board of whaling
vessel and he resolved to accept it. 1t cos
him, none knew what struggle, to par
from the being he loved with an almost wor
shipful affection. But he knew the time hat
come when he must 90 forth III the world t.
do battle for himself and for her, and a sail
or's life was his coveted calling.
{" 1t seems to me, Henry said the mother
when, with a trembling lip, she parted Iron
him, "as if | must still put the light in tn
little window. shall think sometimes
hear the sound Of your footsteps the click G
the latch. and your pleasant voice, y, Henry
Henry, if | could but light you over tn
pleasant waters!"
Mother, God will do that" said Henry
pointing to the glowing heavens "God wi
light me through storm and through calm
but, mother, | shall think every night tina
the lamp is in the window; that you sit nea
it; that somebody blesscs you for the gud
ing ray, and above all, that you are prayin
for me-"
The long voyage was almost ended, br
another voyage was to end before that. Th
widow Locke was taken ill. Yet, with III
fading regularity, with feeble step, and tren
uous hand, nightly the dear woman trimme
the little lamp, and placed it in the window
Still, when the Bonded form could no long,
otter about the cottage, when she lay hel,
lessly upon the bed, and the neighbors can
In to care for her, she would say, " Put tn