The weekly Butte record., 1867-11-30


Of nice eemfortables might as well as
Rot haea at all. / vas cool and wretch
cd.
And over and over again had to
say to myself what I had heard our
pastor say 80 often, 'Never give any
thing to chance beggars, my dear
friends; always bestow your aims on
worthy persons, through well-organized
societies." before | could get q bit Of
comfort. And what an old fool was
to cry, thought, when | found my
cheeks wet.
But did not cry long, for, as | sat
there, dash, crash and jingle came
sleigh over the road and stopped at our
gate, and l heard my Charles voice
crying, ''Halloa, mother !" And out |
went to the door, and had him in my
arms, my great, tall, handsome, brown
son. And there he was in his uniform,
with his pretty shoulder straps, and as
hearty as if he had never been through
any hardships. He had to leave me to
put the horse up, and then | had by the
fire my own boy. And Drusilla, who
was up stairs, had been crying, why l
wonder? She came down all in hut-
ter, for they were like brother and sis
ter, and he kissed Der, and she kissed
him, and away she went to set the Ia
BILE, and the nice hot things smoked On
a cloth white as snow and how Char
lie enjoyed them! But once, in the
midst of all, | felt frightened feeling
come over me, and know | turned pale,
for Drusilla said, ''what is the matter,
Aunt Fairfax?'
said nothing, but it was this Kind
o'like the ghost Of step, going champ,
champ, over the frozen snow; kind O.
like a ghost Of voice, saying ''Let
me lie on your floor before your fire, and
give me any kind of a crust )" kind o
like seeing some ope that had a mother,
dropping down on the winter road, and
freezing and starving to death there.
That's what it was. But | putt away,
and only thought Of Charlie.
We drew up together by the fire
when tea was done, and he told us
things about the war that I'd never
heard before. How the soldiers suffer
ed, and what weary marches, and short
rations they sometimes had. And then
he told me how his life had been in
danger how he had been set upon by
the rebels and badly wounded E; and how
1T the risk of his own life, fellow SOL
der had saved him, and carried him
away lighting his path back to camp.
"I'd never seen you but for him"
says my Charlie. ''And # there's
man on earth | love, it is Rob Hada-
way, the dearest, best fellow. We have
shared each others rations, and drank
from the same canteen many and many
time and if | ever had had broth
er, | couldn't have thuoght more Of
him."
"Why didn't you bring him home to
see your mother, Charlie ?" said |.
"Why, I'd love him too, and anything
that | could do for him, the man who
saved my boys life, couldn't be enough.
Send fer him, Charlie" But Charlie
shook his head, and covered his face
with his hands.
"Mother,' said he, 81 don't know
whether Rob Hadaway is alive or dead.
While was in the ranks he was taken
prisoner, and the rebel prisons are a
poor place to live in, mother. I'd give
my right hand to be able to do him any
good, but | can find no trace of him.
And he has a mother, too, and she is so
fond of him. She lives at Greenbank,
poor old lady. My dear, good Rob,
the preserver of my life ~
And l saw Charlie was nearly cry
ing.
Not to let us see his tears, he got up
and went to the mantel- piece. | did
not look around until | heard cry.
"Great heavens! what is this z"
And | turned, and Charlie had the to-
bacco pouch the man dropped, in his
hand.
"Where did this come from % said
he. II feel as though | had seen
ghost. gave this to Rob Hadaway
the day he saved me. We soldiers had
not much to give, you know, and he
vowed never to part with it while he
lived. How did it come here, mother -
And l fell back in my chair, white
and cold, and said l, Z" wandering
tramp left it here. Never Your Rob,
my dear-never your Rob. He must
have been an impostor. | wouldn't
have turned a person away really in
want. Oh! no, no: it's another pouch,
child; not that. or he stole it. A tall
fellow, with blue eyes and yellow brown
hair; wounded he said, and going to
his mother at Greenbank. Not your
Rob-"
And Charlie stood staring at me
with clinched hands; and said he, SIT
was my Rob, my dear old Rob, wound
ed and starving-my dear old Rob, who
saved my life, and you have driven him
out such a night as this. mother. My
mother, to use Rob so ~
sSCrrso -,o Cb,rl;o - cod s.,,r-,