Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1861-10-16


'sI'm poor man, he muttered to himself,
ssand pretty much all the money l ever had
has gone into the land and improvements
mere. But Pm an honest and Chris
tian, and that's more'n Squire Melwyn can
say, reckon. Melissy, hev done right 20
''1 ou're always right, Jethro,'' said Melis-
| sa, throwing her rosy arms around his neck.
| And he was convinced.
"Well, this amt quite such cranky place
as t'other was,' CALCULATED Jethro, looking
round upon the bleak bare walls of the COM
| fortress cottage into which his family had lust
removed, ''and it's suthn' new for Melissy to
be workin' for a livin'. But can't say I'd
have things whit different
s'And it is for me you have made this sac
rihce,'' said Alice, gratefully.
| She sat working by the window, with little
Herbert playing at her feet, VIII lie three
four miniature Parkers scudded in and out as
Melissa iIoned smiingly away at table in
the corner.
ssDon't say word, Mrs. Melwyn,'' said
Jethro; ssI'm shure don't know how on airth
Melissa'd ever got the children's clothes made
| if 'twasn't for you.'
| And Melissa looked SO kindly at the fororn
| young creature that she felt she had indeed
! found home.
| The children were all at school, and little
Herbert sleeping in the chimney corner.
Jethro was at work and Melissa absent on some
| household errand, and Alice sat alone, plying
| her needle and listening to the tick of the old
clock on the wall, when there came tap at
the door and the latch was lifted.
Scan you tell me if Jethro Parker lives
here %
Alice uttered a scream and sprang to her
| feet.
ssAlice-my wife 20
''Oh it is a dream-a dream. l have seen
you SO many times in my slumbers and oh
| the waking was worse than death.''
| She shrank away as he folded her in his
arms.
s'Alice, 1T is no dream. Sweet wife, l am
your own Herbert Sit down. love, and let
me tell you of my perilous journey and hair
| breadth escapes. Believe me, it is no dream.''
| And, as he talked, she heard the roar of the
great foam capped breakers climbing up the
tropic shores, and saw the pink shells lighting
up all the waves with their crimson glow.
All it sounded like dream yet when she
| placed little Herbert on his fathers breast,
the child capped its hands in ecstasy, and
| cried
ssPapa papa!''
Then for the first time she knew she was a
widow no longer.
ss1 never can find words to thank the friends
who have been SO kind to you, my love-" said
Herbert, gravely, when his wife had told her
simple story. "But there is one subject which
remains untouched between US. l have Just
come from Melwyn Hall, supposing, errene-
ously, as it seems, that my fathers hearth
stone would have been the place of refuge for
his sons widow. But when saw the old man,
all upbraidings grew silent on my lips. AL
| ice, be is dead.''
sDead 20
ssNe died in an apoplectic fit this morning.
| There is no will am the only heir.''
Both were mute for few minutes. Alas
the father who had gone to his last home new
er taught his children to love or cherish him.
They could not grieve, yet there was thrill
of awe in their hearts. Within the last few
hours they had passed from poverty into abun-
dant wealth.
$50 the new squire has made you present
of your old farm, Jethro,'' said Jeremiah
Jackson. sSome folks do have all the luck
in this world. l might get turned out half
hundred times afore nybody'd make me any
such offer.''
s'Or afore you'd dew charitable thing,
jerry said one of the neighbors, with
laugh.
'Well, anyhow, always did say charity be-
gun to hum," groaned jeremiah ssbut | shall
begin to alter my opinion now.''
ssYour charity always begun to hum, and
ended there, too: guess said his compan-
ion.
81 said from the first that Mrs. Melwyn
looked like lady, and acted like one.''
ssNever heer'd you make the remark afore.''
III s all LUCK, S1gDeQ Jeremiah, Oy way OIL
| a clncher tD his argument.
sMelssy," said Jethro, turning to his come
ly hepmate, ssdidn't tell you things would
all come right ~
Melissa made no reply but the soft tears
that dimmed her bright eyes were certainly
not those of grief.
SIGNS OF THE TIMEs.-The current number
OF the american Presbyterian devotes a lead
ing article to the state of mind which should
characterize the Christian in our present ma
tional troubles. in which, although not direct
ly expressed, the PremillenneioL .4dreat is i'm
piled. Speaking of what the times portend,
the writer inquiries: GAS the affairs of time
grow mole perplexed, and prospects more
confused and desperate, does not the Christian
see in all clearer prospect of his Masters
Second Coming which is TO him the most joy
GUS of all events ?'' Were the milennial
peace of thousand years to precede this s.joy-
Gus EVENT. in the writer's estimation, he
could hardly find signs of an approaching ad
vent" in our present troubles. The following
sentence still more clearly expresses the pre-
millennial thought involved: ssClothed in
His (Christ's) righteousness, reposing on His
covenant as on rock, looking for His not
very remote and most glorious appearing,
what is there in the most extreme changes of
worldly affairs to destroy the Christians
peace of mind 20
As the question whether the Second Com
ing will precede or follow the millennium is
one of absorbing interest to the Bible student,
and very oppositely answered by eminent
theologians, and one, moreover, upon which
the religious newspaper press is remarkably
silent, even this slight approximation to defn-
ing its position, on the part of the .fmerfcan
Presbyterian, deserves notice.
A fact-Time is the hearald of truth.
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