The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1860-09-28
Mistellal1eolls.
DEACON PALMER's FAMILY.

n0llOws, ana the ecnOes uInOnS tuo hhio
caught them up and tossed them back and
forth through the forest, and they ran in long
silyery eddies up the turnpike, and over the
meadows, and across the orchardk, till they
reached the ear. and stirred the hearts OF the
quiet little village Of Woodstock, whose farm
houses sat in the valley at the foot Of a long
chain of hills, like n company OF pilgrims
gathered to worship before the shrine ofa
vast temple. IL was just ut sunset, and some
how those long, mournful minor tones SEEM
od the fitting close of the days scryice-that
autumn day which had arisen on the noun
tains in garments of sunshine and marched
through the hours in beauty and rejoicing, u
living Glory to God = the Creator ofitsgood
and perfect gift. =,
But it was day fraught with dread and
forcboding to thousands OF homes ana hearts
in the land. for the voice OF war was abroad
in the earth, and mothers had strained their
brave sons for the last time to their Dosoms,
and seen them 90 forth to battle. and hus.
bands and fathers had laid aside the plow and
the scythe, and shouldered their muskets,
and taken their lives in their lands for the
sake of freedom, and the name OF the God oil
battles.
So deep shadows lay on tho quiet country
thresholds of almost every home in New Eng
land that autumn day, and almost every
hearthstone was an altar where anxious, low
ing hearts sent up cry to God for their be-
loved. Mrs. Palmer, wife Of deacon John
Palmer, Of Woodstock, stood in the wide,
old.iashioned kitchen of the dngy, yellow
farmhouse, which she brought her husband
on her marriage morning. She was an am
pie, c,motherly, pleaslnt-faccd looking woman,
Whose whole physiosnomy corrcsponded with
the room. Strings of red peppers and rows
ofdried apples were iestooned along tho cell
ing, while u swinging board fastened to the
beam, which divided the hall overhead, was
burdcned with herbs and berries, hams, dried
beans, seeds, and Inotely variety OF domestic
wares.
Mrs. Palmer's life had slipped over its iif-
tieth summer, and her black hair was thickly
siited with gray, and there were lines about
her forehead, and the smile in her faded eyes
had something sorrowlul about it, for Mrs.
Palmer had walked with grief many times;
and of ten fair boys and girls who had been
gathered to her maternal heart, only two re-
maincd to her old age. 1t was small fam
lily under the roof or the gray homestead On
earth, but larger one in that golden upper
homestead whose blessed threshold is never
larkened by the shadow of death.
Mrs. Palmer paused as her car caught the
faint. sweet echoes of the stage horn, and she
deposited half dozen freshly-boiled dough-
nuts in the pan on the table, murmuring to
herself, Now, for all the world, if that isn't
the mail coming in who knows but what
there may be some news from Reuben ! All.
If YOU had heard how her voice fingered over
the name, you would have known she was
his mother.
Il wonder if that boy will take any sort Of
care OF himself continued the fond mother,
dexterously convolving several strips OF
dough, and placing them in the large iron
kettle which hung over the fire, filled with
boiling fat, which Indignantly snapped and
Jputtcred at their intrusion.
IF there was fray, he'd be sure to be FORE
most, for hc al'ays was poking his head into
all sorts o. danger, and never seemed to feel
quite SO content as when there was chance
o. setting his neck off bis shoulders!
Il never could exactly sec where he got his
harumscarum turn, for his father was al'ays
"A sober minded man but twas amazin' how
he'd be sartin TO conc out straight. never
had an easy hour for the first ten years of
his life, for fear he'd be brought home with
broken limbs; but after he'd gone through
with what would killed q dozen ordinary
children, | kind o. gave up, | concluded he
bore charmed life.
BLESS his heart my brave, handsome boy
never gave his mother cross word In the
world and saw the tears u shinin' under
his lashos that mornin' when he kissed me
rood-byc, afore he started for the army,
though he talked so bold and CHEEKY about
his coming back cap'n or colonel.
.Poor fellow. | hope he won't get the
rheumatis campin' out nights, and they say
they have to put up with fare such Us We
would't have the face to offer to smart dog.
wish could do up paper o these dough-
nuts for the b y. he al'ays was iond OF 'cm.
Dear me them cakes are burnin,' dipping
her larrc tin ladle into the boiling fat: but
il al'ays illustrates me when get to thinkin'
a. Renben. I'm reminded sometimes o. what
Parson Hunter said to me; Miss Palmer, you
mustn't make an idol Of your son. lie be-
longs 10 the Lord know it's true as Scrip.
tur, but | can't help thinkin' the Lord u
show marcy On my weakness, cos he's all
Two got, and after q great many struggles We
given up the Others to Him; but my very life's
bound up in that boy, and difanything should
happen To him, God knowsit would break his
poor mothers heart And Mr.. Palmer broke
down here, and she sat down on the old oak
en- chest, and wiped her eyes on the corner
of her check apron.
Light warblings of some old psalm tune
nuttered down the staircase, and then the
door opened, and a pleasant looking girl burst
suddenly into the room.
Rebccca Palmer was twenty two, and the
sight Of her bright young face was like pic
ture rejoicing the eyes. She was not beauti.
lul, but her cheeks were full of the glow Of
youth, and the richness Of perfect health.
well. child said Mr.. Palmer, taking her
kettle from the crane. you just hustle
round spry, and get up supper. Your father
and the men will come home clear tuckcred
out for they've been fellin' trees all day, and
We must get a hearty meal for 'em. You
slice up some ham, too, and fry a dozen eggs,
while | fix Up some short cake
Mother, did you hear the stage horn !?
asked Rebccca, as she laid the cloth che had
spun with her own hands for the supper.
Yes: and was kind Of impressed there
was news from Reuben
Il wonder what keeps father SO? remarked
Rebccca.
Likely as not he's soncround to the tavern
10 learn If there's any tidings from thearmy.'
Another half-hour throbbcd away in the
pulses of the great old-fashioned clock in the
corner, and both the women had begun to
grow alarmed ut the deacon's prolonged alb