The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1860-11-23

beaten face. he came toward the table witt
slow, cropping movement, which neither of
the preoccupied women noticed, and he clear
ed his throat twice before he spoke.
4 was detained spell on some matter of
my own ; and Mrs. Palmer and Rebecca a,
once concluded that he alluded to some bar.
gain with neighbor.
Don't you see the chair there, father !?
asked Rebecca for the old man stood stin
as statue before the table, though his
daughter had jus, placed his seat at his el-
bow, and now he sat down without speaking
a word.
why, husband, do believe you're deaf
tonight. You haven't taken your hat off,
exclaimed Mrs. Palmer.
Don't wife, don't and the old man laid
his straw hat on the floor beside him.
! The two women bent their heads reyerent-
ly over the board, waiting for the deacon to
invoke his customary blessing upon the meal.
but no sound broke the stiffness. Mrs. Palm
er glanced up at her husband his head, too,
was bent over his plate, and stream of can
delight which fell on his face revealed it full
! ly to her gaze.
John, something has happened to you to-
night she said. leaning forward, and breath
lessly searching his face.
! A deep convulsive sort of groan heaved
out Of the mans lips, and both the women
grew white as they heard it.
%, what is it, father ? do tell US - hutter-
ed up the frightened voice of Rebecca.
! Mrs. Palmer rose and went to her hus-
band, and laid her shaking fingers on his
hard hand. %, John, it amt anything about
Reuben p She cried out the words as one
might if sword had struck suddenly into
his heart
! Rebecca had sat still at the table, her sweet
face struck white with wonder and fear, and
her brown eyes fastened on her parents but
row she sprang up, and dropped down on
her knees at the deacon's feet: %, father,
do say it isn't Reuben " and her voice was
like her mothers. The deacon opened his
lips, but he could net speak. He took the
hands of his wife and child, and covered them
with his own trembling ones. 20, Lord have
mercy upon u.s. groaned the stricken man,
and then they knew.
Mrs. Palmer crept up to her husband, and
whispered, in faint, broken voice, Just say
my boy isn't dead, father can bear to hear
, anything else
And the deacon made no answer but the
great tears fell down his furrowed cheeks, ,and
it was enough.
The tidings Of the disastrous battle al
Long Island, which closed the summer of
seventeen hundred and seventy-six had filled
the land with mourning, for thousands of
widows and orphans had been made in that
terrible hour when so many brave Americans
lay dead on the battlefield and the news of
the successful skrimish which took place the
following month nea: Kings Bridge, New
York, was everywhere hailed with gladness
and gratitude, and the little village of Wood
stock bore its part in the general rejoicing
on that autumnal night when the stage first
brought in the tidings. The deacon's family
was the only one in Woodstock to whom the
news brought any sorrow, for it was in this
engagement that Reuben had fallen. He
was great favorite through the village, and
every heart was filled with sadness when it
thought on that bright, handsome face lying
stark and rigid on the battlefield.
1t was late that evening when Parson Hun
ter entered the stricken house, for friends
and neighbors feared to intrude on its awful
grief. But the tender-hearted old minister
could not rest till he had carried the sweet
balm of his love and faith into their broken
hearts. Parson Hunter was a tall, white
haired old man, a fine representative of the
stanch old Puritan minister, but beneath
some stateliness and austerity of manner
beat heart where were all faith and fra
grant blossoms, and golden fruits of charity
and love; heart in whose pleasant and good
ly paths the angels loved to walk with their
shining faces. and of whom they wrote, OF
such is the kingdom of heaven
The minister found the family in the kitch-
en-, where We left it, utterly crushed down by
a grief which expressed itself neither by
means nor tears. Mrs. Palmer sat in the
large armchair before the fire, where her
husband had placed her, the crimson light
futtering over her face, which seemed frozen
to stone, and her fearless eyes fastened in a
blank gaze on the wall and it was well per
haps that alarm for her reason or her life
had some~ hat diverted the thoughts of the
deacon and his daughter from the dead to
the living, though it seemed to the minister
that the last hour had done the work of wears
for both of them.
My friends, said the minister, speaking in
his deep, solemn tones.' i should not have
come into your house of mourning tonight ;
feeling that the Lord could speak to your
hearts better than but remembered that
it was twenty-four years ago this very month
when you brought Reuben up to the altar to
dedicate him to his God, and felt that had
right and title to come
And these words unlocked Mrs. Palmer's
face. She turned suddenly towards the old
man as the vision of that Sabbath morning
rose and walked up its lorg path of years
and stood before her.
! i see him | see him. she sobhed out,
: with the little brown curls danc:n' round
!, his face, and the merry brown eyes blinking
. under them. My little Reuben he was the
sweetest baby that ever gladdened a moth.
er's heart, and | was so proud of him, and
r thought God would spare him to be the stat
of his mothers old age, because l had given
all the others to Him. o, Parson Hunter, il
can't be true that shall never look into his
2 face again, never hear the sound of his voice
? that he's lying off there on the battlefield
and his mother was not there to smooth a.
way the hair from his forehead, or give him
. one kiss when he looked up for her face the
/ last time
The old man sat still, overwhelmed by thit
: mighty burst of mothers agony. He clos
ed his eyes for the tears that filled them, and
: felt that for her he had neither help nor con
ISOLATION.
The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken
e away blessed be the name of the Lord
The low, solemn tones of the preacher
n scarcely above whisper, fell into the heart.
n of the hearers and stilled them, as man.
, never could, as only Gods can. Blessed Bi
bic words, which we read over in morning