The Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1855-1875, 1868-09-01
THE DOUBLE BLESSING.

Deacon Gray had q habit, and he car
ried it through life with him, of making
the wants and sufferings of others in
some sort his own. The habit, or what
ever else it might be called, certainly in
creased with his years-and his worthy
help-meet, during the long period of
their welded life, through the influence
of assimilation, and, above all, the hea-
venly fruits of sanctifed sorrow, had
grown to be modelled very nearly after
the same pattern.
So when the Deacon sat down, one
wild, stormy evening, paper and specta-
cles in hand, and related the "news'-
which was in everybody's mouth, as they
seated themselves around cheerful tea
tables and blazing fires, or gathered in
social knots at the village store-Mrs.
her arm m-chair, cushioned with hen's 8
feathers, and dropped her knitting work,
quite regardless of the little black and
white kitten at her side, which instantly
put the ball to the use feline fancy
suggested.
"And what will become Of Jerry?p
Fifty other people that day had asked
the same question:; but coming from
good Mrs. Gray's honest, motherly
heart, the very word sounded differently,
like the same tune played in dissimilar
keys.
+ The Deacon's eye, as it sought the
open paper, fell on the shipping list; but
it was quickly withdrawn, as if the
glance panied him. His answering re-
a very decided digression from the sub.
ject
cit is just three years tonight. Mary,
since we heard our boy was drowned
We were expecting him home from that
long voyage. and you put on Your best
silk dress that he bought for you in Can
ton, and set the tea table with the china
SET"
Mrs. Gray's eyes sought the burning
embers. which flashed, and flickered, and
glowed, as they did on that never-to-
be forgotten night; and puss made
another tangle in the yarn.
A Iain, sharp, bitter, choking, stran-
gled her reply. William was their only
son, the pride of their hearts, bright.
eyed merry boy. But he was born with
in sight of the sea, and from his earliest
childhood, when he built mimic ships,
that made wonderful voyages over MIN
ic oceans, all his thoughts and desires
centered on the blue heaving waves,
| with a strange fascination which his
fond parents, much as they loved him,
could not resist.
So William went to sea- 1t almos
broke his mothers heart, but when he
came home from his first voyage, look
ing so handsome and manly, with the
rich, healthful color flushing his bronzed
cheek, it throbbed with such pride and
joy as only mothers hearts know.
He had a story to tell. Far away
from home, but with all the sweet influ-
ences lowering around his path like so
many guardian angels, pacing the deck
in the starry tropical night watches,
God had met him; not in flame, not in
the earthquake, nor the whirlwind, but
in the 'sstill small voice" of love. The
prayers of Deacon Gray and his wife
were answered, and William went back
to his ship, that most noble sight on
Gods earth, an open handed, open
hear ted Christian sailor.
Then came the shock. It traced broad
burrows on the good Deacon's kindly
face, bowed lis tall. straight form, and
silvered his wife's brown hair; but we
draw veil over that fearful night, so
fresh in the memories Of both. Theirs
was sacred sorrow, and yielded "thc
peaceable fruits Of righteousness
"Do you think any of our William g
clothes, that you keep in the red trunk,
| would do for Jerry, with little fixing?''
inquired the Deacon, clearing his voice,
which had grown husky.
We will not transcribe gentle Mrs.
Gray reply, nor felate the long con
| versation which followed, extending in
to the ''wee small hours Of the night
Suffice it to say that on the morrow, the
Deacon's horse and team took journey
to the hovel where Jerry lived.
The poor boy was crouching on a
straw pallet, in one corner, resisting all
| endeavors, stern or kindly, to induce
him to quit his wretched home, that was
home no longer. His father had desert
ed him when an infant; bis mother, in
her thirst for liquor, forgot all her ma.
ternal instincts, and died one cold stormy
night, from the effects of drinking.
Jerry must go to the poor house, the
neighbors, said; but Jerry had another
1