The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1868-11-12
The Unexpected Son,

One summer afternoon, Mr.. Male
Anderson arrived with his famil,
at his native town. Putting up al
the little inn, he proceeded to dress him
self in suit Of sailor-clothes and the1
walked out alone. BY by path he wei
knew, and then through a shady lane
dear to his young, hazel nutting days, al
strangely unchanged, he approached hi
mothers cottage He stopped for few
moments on the lawn outside, to curl
down the hcartythat was bounding to NEE
that mother, and to clear his eyes of {
sudden mist of happy tears. Through the
open window he caught glimpse of her
sitting alone at her spinning-wheel, as il
the old time. But alas, how changed
Bowed was the dear form, once so erect
and silyered the locks once SO brown, anC
dimmed the eyes, once so full of tender
brightness, like dew stained vioiets. Bu
the voice, with which she was grooming
softly to herself, was still sweet, and there
was on her cheek the same lovely peacI
bloom OF twenty years ago
At length lie Knocked, and the deal
remembered voice called to him in thl
simple, old-fashioned way-"Coom ben ?
Come 6n.) The widow rose at the sight
Of stranger, and courteously offered hin
a chair. Thanking her in an assumed
voice, somewhat gruf, he sank down, as
though wearied, saying that he was {
way-tarer, Strange to the country, and
asked the way to the next town The
twilight favored him in his little ruse
he saw that she did not recognize him
even as one she had ever seen. But after
giving him the. information he desired
she asked himSif he was Scotchman by
birth.
eyes, madam" he replied; 'but have
been away in foreign parts many years.
doubt if mother would know me now,
though she Was'very fond Of me before ]
went to sea" ~
"Ah, mon it'slittle We ken about NTH
ers, gin We think sea. I can tell We there
is ma mortal memory like their the wild.
ow somewhat warmly replied then add.
ed-"And where haze ye been for sac lang
a time, that We haze lost a Scotch fra your
speechy"
"In INDIAN Calcutta, madam"
"Ah, then, it's likely ye ken something
o my son, Mr.. Malcolm Anderson"
"Anderson?" repeated the visitor, as
though striving to remember "There is
many of that name in Calcutta but is
your son rich merchant, and mar
about my age and size, with somewhat
such fgure-head 2"
"My son lisa rich merchant "A replied
the widow, proudly, "but he is younger
than you by mony long year, and beg
ging your pardon, sir, far BONNER. He is
tall and straight, wi hands and fee like 6
lassie's he had brown, curling hair, sac
thick and glossy and cheeks like the
rose, and brow like the shaw, and the
blue cen wi CLINT in them, like the light
of the evening star! Ma, ma, ye are not
like my Malcom, thoughye are guid
enough body, dinna doubt, and decen
woman's SON."
Here the masquerading merchant, con
siderably taken down, madeira moyelnen
as though to leave, but the hospitabl
dame stayed him, saying
"Gin We haze travelled a. the way fra In
dia, We maun be tired and hungry Bid
bit, andaeat and, drink wi us. Margery
COON down, and1et us set on the supper.
The two women soon provided tempt
ing repast, and they all three sat down
| it-Mrs. Anderson reverently asking
blessing.-But the Merchant could nc
eat. Helwast only hungry Tor his mother
kisses-only thirsty for her,joyfll recog
milton; yet he could not bring himself t
say to her-"I am your son" He aske
himself, half grieved, half amused
t'Where, are the eunerring, natural INSTINCT
I have read about I'M poetry andl noFelSs
His hostess seeing that he did not ca
kindly asked if he could suggest anythin
he would be likely to relish.
thank you, madam" he answered
cit does seem to me that | should Ink
some oatmeal porridge, suchas my mott
er used to make, if 50 be you have any.
i sPorridge ?" repeated the widow. "Al
We mean parritch Yes, we haze a 1littl
left fra our dinner Gle tito him, Ma
gerry Butt mon, tits lcaufd -
Never mind know shall like it.
he rejoined, taking the bowl and begin
ming to stir the pbfridge with the spooi
As he did So Mrs. Anderson gave a sligf
start, and bent eagerly towards him. The
she sank back in her chair with sigl
saying, in answer to his questionin
look I'LL 49, 1J@-S = -
aye minded me O my Malcolm, then
lust in the way he used to stir his parritc
-gieing it whirl and flirt. All 81
ye were my Malcolm, my poor laddie!
"Weel, then, gin were your Malcom
said the merchant, speaking for the fir
time in the Scottish dialect, and in b
own voice; cor gin your Draw young Ma
com were as brown, and bald, and gra
and bent, and old, asI am, could you we
come him to your arms, and love him
in the dear auld lang syne? Could 20
mither?" aaofC H5n roe
4 All through this touching little 'speec
the widows eyes had; been glistening, ar
her breath came fast but at that VOL