The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1859-10-13


question crossed the wife's mind, she gave
it no utterance.
q Shall l light the candles, Rufus 2"
she asked meekly. 9s
"Yes, it is almost bed time. had for
gotten how long we were sitting in the
dark. | will read now, and then We shall
be better in bed"
He drew towards him the Bible, which
T lay between the candles she had lighted /;
it had been his habit to read chapter in
| it Nightly. Somehow, tonight, the pages
opened at the beautiful, ever-new story of
the prodigal son. He read it through
calmly, but his hand trembled as he shut
the book.
" Hannah" he begun, and then paus-
ed, as if his pride was still too strong to
permit him to confess himself in the
wrong. But soon he proceeded. Han
nah, do suppose that was written for an
example to those who should seek to be
numbered with the children of God. He
is our Father, and his arms are ever open
to the wanderer. My heart misgives me
sorely about Caroline She should not
have disobeyed me. but, do never dis
obey God, and where should be if He
measured out to me such measures as |
have measured to her? O, Hannah, /
never felt before how much I needed to
/ be forgiven"
The mothers tears were falling still
on1 foek. ch a1,lI Tho,o
was silence for moment, and then again
the judge said restlessly, Hannah !" and
she looked up into his white, moved face.
" Hapnah, could we 6nd her? Do you
think she still lives-our own child p
"God knows, my husband. Sometimes
think she is dead. l see her face Oh
dark nights, and it wears look of heav-
enly peace. In the winds | hear voice
that sounds like hers; she seems trying to
tell me she has found rest. but no, no
her face kIndled-she is not dead. l
feel it in my soul, God will let us see her
once more ; / am her mother, shall not
die until my kisses have rested on her
cheeks, my hand touched her hair. l
believe I have promise, Rufus"
" God grant it, Hannah" -.-..
And after those words they both sat
silently again, listening-listening-is
tening. aiHla a.t 5
They had not heard the door open, but
now step sounded ih the hail, and the
door of the room was softly unclosed.
They both started up; perhaps they half
expected to see Caroline, but it was only
their next neighbor, holding by the hand
a child. She spake eagerly, in half
confused way, which they did not notice.
This child came to my house, judge,
but hadn any room 10 keep her, so |
brought her over here. Will you take
her in ?"
-" Surely, surely. Come here poor
clild."
Who had ever heard Judge Howards
voice so gentle? The little girl seemed
somewhat re-assured by it. She crept to
his knee, and lifted up his face. The
Judge bent over her. Whose were those
deep blue eyes? Where had he seen
that peculiar shade of hair, like the she'll
ofripe chestnut? Did he not know those
small, sweet features, that wistful mouth,
the delicate chin? His hands shook.
Whose-whose child are you? What
is your name Z"
"Grace," and the little girl trembled
vislbIy.
"Grace Huntley," said the neighbor's
voice grown somewhat quivering now.
" Grace Huntley. You cannot help
knowing that face. 1t is a copy of one
which belonged once to the brightest and
prettiest girl in Ashdalo
The old man, he looked very old now,
shaken by the tempest in his strong heart
as the wind shook the trees outside, drew
the child INTO his bosom with an eager,
hungry look His arms closed round her
as if they would hold her there forever.
"My child, my child" burst like sob
from his lips, and then he bent over her
silently. At first, his wife had stood by
in mute amazement, her face almost as
white as the cap border which tremblcd
round it. Now thought pierced her,
quick and deep as the thrust of sword
She drew near, and looked piteously into
the neighbor's eyes.
SIS she an orphan? Where is her
mother?"
! Her husband heard her, and lifted up
his head.
"Yes, he cried, where is Caroline ?
Have pity, and tell me where is Caroline Z"
i Before the woman could answer, an ca
ger voice called
Here, father, mother, here"
And from the hall where she had been
lingering, half in fear, judge Howard's S
own child came in. 1t was the mother
breast to which she clung first; arms
which clasped her with such passionate