Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1867-09-04


ger"
And he gave kind of groan, and took
his hand from the latch, and went champ,
champ, champ, through the frozen snow
again; and [ thought him gone, when
there he was once more, hardly with a
knock at ala faint touch like a childs
now.
When | opened the door again he came
quite i'll and stood leaning on his cane,
pale as ghost, and his eyes bigger than
ever.
"Well, of all impudence -
He looked at me, and said he, % Mad
ame [ have mother at Greenbank. |
want to live to see her | shall not if |
90 any further tonight
They all want to see their mothers"
said [; and just then it came into my mind
that [ hoped my son Charlie, who had
been a real soldier,-an officer, he had
come to be, mind you,-wanted to see his
mother, and would soon.
Il have been wounded as you see,"
said he
Don't 90 to showing me your hurts"
said |, = they buy EN- so they told me, to
90 a-begging with now. | read the pa
pers, | tell ye, and I'm principled, and
SOS our clergyman, agin giving anything,
unless it is through some well organized
society. Tramps are my abomination.
And as for keeping YOU all night, you
cannot expect that of decent tolks-go -
Drusilla came to the door, and said,
" Let him stay aunty,' with her lips
again, but | took no notice.
SO he went, and this time did not come
back, and | sat down by the fire, and lis
tened to the wind and sleet, and felt the
warm fire, and smelt the baking cakes and
the apples stewing, and the tea drawing on
the kitchen stove and l ought to have
been comfortable, but | wasn't Some
thing seemed tugging at my heart all the
time
| gave the fire hearty poke and lit an
other candle to cheer myself up, and |
went to my work basket to get the sock
I'd been knitting for my Charlie and as
| went to get it | saw something lying on
the floor; picked it up; it was an old
tobacco pouch, ever 80 much like the one
gave Charlie, with fringe around it, and
written on it with ink, " From G. f. to X.
H." and inside was an old pipe, and
letter. rumpled old letter, and when |
spread it out | saw at the top d" My Dear
Son"
knew the beggar must have dropped
it, and then my heart gave one big thump
as if it had been turned into a hammer
Perhaps the story was true and he had
a mother shiyered all over, and the
fire and candles and the nice comfortable
.,.,,ll H. ,,,;,.I. a. ,,-oll b.,-o not boon OF oil
| was cold and wretched.
And over and over again | had 10 say
to myself what | had heard my pastor say
50 often, - Never give anything to chance
begears. my friends always bestow your
aims on worthy persons, through well or
ganized societies.. before | could get any
comfort And what fool to cry thot,
when [ found my cheeks wet.
But | did not cry long; for. as sat
there dash and crash came sleigh over
the road, and it stopped at our gate, and
| heard my Charities voice crying,
" Halloa, mother 3"
And | went out 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 hard
ships He had to leave me to put the
horse up. and then | had him by the fire
again my own boy. And Drusilla, who
had been up stairs, and had been crying
why, | wonder came down in futter-
for they were like brother and sistcr-and
he kissed her, and she kissed him, and then
away she went to set the table, and the
nice hot things smoked on a cloth as white
as snow; and how Charlie enjoyed them
But once in the midst Of all, felt a fright
ened feeling come over me, and | knew L
turned pale, for Drusilla said, What Is
the matter. aunt Fairfax a.? ="
said nothing, but it was this kind o
like the ghost Of a voice saying . Let me
lie on the floor before your fire, and give
me any kind OF crust ?" kind o like see
ing some one who had a mother, dropping
down on the wintry road, and freezing and
starving to death there. That was what
it was. But | put it away and only
thought of Chrlie.
We drew up together by the fire when
tea was done, and he told US things about
the war I'd never heard before. How the
soldiers suffered, 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
rebels and badly wounded; and how at
the risk of his own life, fellow soldier
had saved him and carried him away,
fighting his path back to camp.
- Id never seen you but for him." says
nv Charlie And if there's "A man on
/ Il. Il, nd I'll ha
dearest. best fellow. We've shared each
others rations, and drank from the same
canteen many and many time; and If
ever | had brother, | couldn't think
more of him"
Why didn't you bring him home TO
| see your mother, Charlie ," said L. 9 Why,
I'd loved him too, and anything | could
do for him, for the man who saved my
boys life, couldn't be enough. Send for
him, Charlie" But Charlie shook his
head, and covered his face with his hands.
Mother said he, &. | dor't know wheth-
er Rob Hadaway is alive or dead to-day
While was still in the ranks he was ta-
ken prisoner. And the rebel prisons are
poor places 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 mother, too, and she is so fond OF
him. She lives at Greenbank-poor old
lady. Ny dear, good, noble Rob, the pre-
server of my life "
And | saw Charlie nearly crying. Not
to let us see the tears, he got up and went
to the mantle-piece. did not look around
until | heard a cry.
..Great heavens what is this ?" And
I turned and Charlie had the tobacco