The Cass County Republican. [volume] (Dowagiac, Mich.) 18??-1880, 1859-12-22
The Fathers Forgiveness.

The March light had darkened down
the little New England village of Ash
dale. 1t was a pretty place in summer,
lying between two hills, on whose sum-
NIT the ash trees lifted their arms to
the sky, all the long, bright days, as if
imploring benediction, or spread out
lovely over the white houses nestled
round the one church in the vale be-
low.
But tonight it wore different as
pect. A storm was upon the hills. A
little snow and hail was borne upon its
wings, but not much. Chiefly it was
the force of the rushing winds; shak-
ing the leafess ash trees, hurting
against closed windows; swinging the
bell in the old chuch tower, till it gave
forth now and then dirge like peal,
as if the dead were tolling their own
requiems.
Many homes there were, where the
wild scene without seemed but to height.
en- by the force of contrast, the blessed
calm within-homes where smiling in
fants slept warm and still, through the
twilight, in the soft hush of mother
bosoms, and happy children gathered
round the knee of some father or grand
sire, to hear again some simple story !:
or thoughtful ones looked into the fire,
and fashioned from the embers brave
castles, in which they were to dwell in
in the coming time, with, over all the
sunshine of youth and hope. Twenty
years from now they will look again
into the embers, and see these fair cas-
ties, in which they had never come to
abide, with ruined windows and black
ened wall =
''The twilight memory over all,
And the silence of death withn''
But in one house no stories were
told to gladly listening ears-uo soft
evening hymn hushed slumbering
babes to rest-no chlldren's eager eyes
looked into the embers. It was the
stateliest home, by far, in the little vii
lage-a lofty mansion, cleaning white
through the trees, with the roof sup
ported by massive pillars. Nowhere
did the evening fire burn brighter, but
into it looked only two old people worn
and sorrowful, with the shadows of
grief and time upon their shriveled faces
two who had forgotten long ago,
that their youths fair castles, who
looked back over wasted fields of men,
ory, where not even setting sun rays
glided their monuments built to their
dead hopes.
They sat there silently. They had
sat silently ever since the darkness
gathered. The lofty, well-furnished
room was lighted only by the wood
fines glow, and in the corners strange
shadows seemed to gather, with be- k
oning hands and white brows cleaning
spectrally through the darkness. To-
ward them, now and then, the wife
looked with anxious gaze then turned
back again toward the fire, and clasped
her hands over the heart that had
learned through many trials the hard
lesson of patience.
Judge Howard was stern, self-con-
tanned man. In his native town where
ne had passed all his life, none stood
higher in public esteem. Toward the
poor he was liberal-toward his neigh
bors, just and friendly; yet, for all that
he was a man, whose will was iron,
whose habits were granite. His wife
had come to know this. even in her
honeymoon. The knowledge was en-
dorsed by her sad, waiting face, and
restrained manners.
His daughter Caroline, hisonly child
had learned it early, and her father be-
came to her almost as much an object
of fear as of tenderness.
And yet he loved those two with a
strength weaker more yielding natures
could not have fathomed. When his