Democrat and sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1853-1866, 1861-10-30

mounted his box and drove away.
! s sunburnt, foreign looking man dressed in
a suit Of black, with 4 Panama hat banded wit
broad black ribbon drawn over his eyes, stood
in the low roofed entry with his hand on the
latch Of the door leading INTO the old fashioned
parlor.
Els fingers trenlbled as he essayed to If. the
latch, his whole frame trenbled, could ne open
the door, and not find her?
BE knew slI. In the railway car which brought
him from the city, be met an old friend This
had not gone to him and said in 50 many words,
your wife IS deadl' but he had wrunE his hand.
and whispered. poor fellowi Eustace may God
help you" And then tod the whole story
1t was enough, Harry knew that his Mary
was gone. lie might go back to the old home
stead. but he could not find her there; might
look for the light Of her young sweet face but it
should not illunine the darkness-they had hid
it under the grave sod; he might pour out his
golden dust, but not at her feet-'the marble
stone cleaned there he might kneel and sob
and qray-but she could neither see nor hear him
his lost Mary.
He had not wept, but dull, aching pain was
at his heart and perhaps people thought he
slept, rs lie sank down into the corner Of the
seat of the rail way car, with his hat pulled
down over his eyes he had been strong then
for he was man. and lie must not weep before
men but. standing there in the entry Of the low
rooted homestead, he was as weak as 4 little
child, his knees smote against each other and he
leaned heavily against the partition wall for sup
port.
Suddenly his Own mother opened the door.
She had not heard the coach stop from the low.
back kitchen where she was at her household
tasks; but entering the parlor suddenly, and
hearing Tie hand trembling upon the latch, sup
posing it was little Harry who had been out to
his play in tie yard she opened the door and
stood face to face with her son.
Mute she stood Fl a moment. gazing upon the
tall. sunburut, s;alwart man before her; then as
be staggered forward heavily into her arms, she
clasped them about his neck. and burst into
teas:
..Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry"
An hour later, when calmness had come. and
with the home group all around MIN. Harry Eus-
tace found strength to listen 70 the sad story.
With Charley. now grown to be stout. brave
boy, at his side; and the little golden haired Har-
~, whose soft blue eyes were 50 ike his Iary's,
on his knee-the boy whom he had never seen,
and who looked mp slyly into his fathers face
and wondered Who the great strange man could
be- who cluRg 10 him 50 tightly, and kissed hun
often. dropping great tears upon his face mean
time. and then gave him bright golden coins TO
play with. With his motherless boys clasped in
his arms, Harry Eustace heard the whold sad
story of the patient sufferer, who in her youth
and beauty had meezly and uncomplainingly
gone down TO her rest.
And this was the end Of all. Alas! alas
.. three years 70 grow rich in - three years of
lost 1--we, years which could never return, during
which bright eyes dimmed, footsteps ialterel, md
the grave rest Was gained. Alas for it all.
Oh, We who have household treasures, love
thom, cling to them. leave them neveri Let
not the love Of gold part You; tell you love is
better than riches.
Time. the soitener, has in measure heaSd
that wound in Harry Eustace's heart; other ties
have taken the place of the old ones-for SO it
must be. that new hopes ever build upon the
ashes. Of dead ones but ah, the scar OF that
wound can never wholly disappear; and to day.
one heart is heavier f6r the sorrow it has known
and. reading this. dark eyes will dim with
tears fo- the memory Of the :. loved and lost -
who for four long years had been quietly sleeping.