Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1859-11-30
CLEARFlEID PA, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 80 1852

proceeded ssHannah / 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 l never disobey
God, and where should be, If He measured
out to me such measure as have to her? Oh,
Hannah, / never felt before how much | need
ed to be forgiven
The mothers tears were falling still and
fast-she could not sssswer. There was silence
for moment, and then again the Judge said,
restlessly sly-ssHannail ~ and she looked up in
to his white, moved face.
ssfiannah, could we find her Do you think
she lives stiil-our one child !''
.sGod knows, my husband. Sometimes
think that she is dead. l her face dark
nights, and it wears look of heavenly peace.
In the winds hear voice that sounds like
bers, and she seems trying to tell me she has
found rest But no, no her face kinded-
she is not dead. | feel it in my soul-God
VIII let us see her once more-I am her moth
er. l shall not die till my kisses have rested
on her cheek, my hand touched her hair
believe have promise, Rufus"
- ssGod grant it, Hannah,' and after those
words they both sat silently, again listening
MISUNDERSTANDING.
They had not heard the door open, but now
step sounded in the hall, and the door of
the room where they sat, softly unclosed
They both started up-perhaps they half eX-
pected to see Caroline, but it was only their
next neighbor, holding by the hand child.
She spake eagerly, in a half concealed way,
which they did not notice.
This child came to my house, Judge, but
l hadn't room to keep her, so | brought her
over here. Will you take her in ?''
s'Surely, surely. Come here poor child
Who had ever heard Judge Howard's voice
so gentle The little girl seemed somewhat
re-assured by it. She crept to his knee and
Whose We're those blue, deep eyes? Where
had he seen that peculiar shade of hair. like
the she'll OF a ripe chestnut Did he not know
those small, sweet features, that wistful mouth,
the delicate chin His hands shook.
ssWhose-whose child are you! What is
your name !''
"Grace,'' and the child trembled visibly.
'sGrace Huntley," said the neighbor's voice,
grown somewhat quivering now. 'sGrace
Huntley. You cannot help knowing the face,
Judge. 1t is copy of the one which belong
ed once to the brightest and prettiest girl in
Ashdale."
The old nan-he looked very old now, sha-
ken by the tempest in his strong heart, as the
wind shook the tree outSide--drew the child
to his bosom with an eager, hungry look. His
arms closed around her as if they would hold
her forever.
sMy child, my child ?' burst like a sob
from his lips, and then he bent over silently.
At first his wife stood by in mute amazement,
her face almost as white as the cap border
which trembled around it. Now the thought
pierced her quick and keen the thrust of
sword. She drew near and looked piteously
into the neighbor's eyes.
'.Is she an orphan? Where is her mother ?''
The Judge heard her ,and lifted up his head
eyes, he cried, sswhere is Caroline Have
pity and tell me where is Caroline 20
Before the woman could answer, an eager
voice callcd-.sHere, father, mothe:', here,'
and from the hall where she had been lingering
half in fear, Judge Howard's own child came
in. 1t was to the mothers breast to which
she clung iIst-the mothers arms which clasp
ed her with such passionate clinging, and then
she tottered forward, and threw herself down
ut her fathers feet.
ssForgive me. father" she tried to say but
the Judge would not hear her. The angel had
troubled, at length, the deep waters of his
soul, and the waves of healing overhowed his
heart. He saw now, in it's true light, the self
will and the unforgiving spirit which had been
the sin of his life. He sank upon his knees,
his arms entoldiug his daughter and her child
and his old wife crept to his side. and knelt
beside him. while from his lips Mrs. Marsh
heard, as she closed the door, and left the now
united family to themselves, this prayer:
s.Fathcr, forgive our trespasses, we
forgive those who trespass against us.''
Judge Howard had not uttered it before for
ten years.
After that night the Judges mansion
not only the stateliest, but the happiest home
in Ashdale. Caroline Huntley had borne
long as she could, the burden weight on her
heart, and when it had grown too heavy to be
endured she had started with her child for
home. The stage had set them down that
stormy night in her native village, and the
forgiveness for which she had scarcely dared
to hope had expanded into welcome.
The old people could not again spare their
daughter, and they summoned RichardHuntley
home. A son he proved, of whom any father
might be proud. and in after years no shadows
brooded over the peaceful dwelling, where
once more chldren's feet danced round the
hearth fire, and childrens fancies built castles
in the embers-no shadow until that last dark
ness came which should be but the night be-
fore which will rise the calm morning of eter-
nifty.