The Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1855-1875, 1868-09-01
RICHMOND, WAYNE CO., md.


perhaps you will like to 60 home with
me. 1 have nd little boy, and want
one. Your shall have some nice clothes
to wear. if you will come"
The Deacon waited for no answer.
He saw the quick, eager look OF the
boys face, the yielding, trustful clasp OF
his little hand, and drove away with
him. Mrs. Gray met them at the door
of the pleasant farmhouse.
ssTake these dirty duds off, the first
thing, Mary" sad her husband, "and
give him his supper, and then he'll do"
Mrs. Gray was not slow in obeying
the advice. Her heart warmed to the
poor forsaken boy, as his eyes rested on
her face with shy, timid gaze, hungry
for new drauglts of the love that had
never been his before.
"He would really be pretty" she said
to her husband, after the washing and
dressing operations were over, "if ir
weren't for his starved look. But we'll
soon remedy that" And slipping into
the pantry, she filled the china bowl that
William had liked to eat from SO well,
and set it before Jerry.
And so, warmed and fed as he had
never been IN his life before, he went to
sleep that night in pretty little bed
room, with snowy curtains, and such
soft white bed. that no wonder he
| thought himself in heaven.
| One or two years passed by, and
neither the Deacon nor his wife regret
ted the step Jerry's warm, gushing
love, healed the sore and aching spots
in each heart, and though their own lost
boys place was still vacant, and ever
would be, they gave the orphan all the
parental care and affection that had
once been his
4 Mrs. Gray proposed to rame their
/ adopted son William, but her hu- band
| objected.
Our boy is not dead, but sleepeth," !"
/ he answered. I'VE do not want two
Williams in the family and his wife
said no more.
One night as Jerry was bringing in
wood through the back door, stranger
opened the gate und walked up the 10
Gust bordered path. Jerry had grown
to be fine boy. Kindness and care hao.
worked wonders for him.
"Is Deacon Gray at homer" inquired
the stranger.
Jerry answered in the affirmative, and
ushered him into the great kitchen,
| where the Deacon was busted with his
inevitable companion, the newspaper,
while his wife was engaged in preparing
the evening meal.
/ Both turned. A deadly paleness
overspread Mrs. Gray's cheeks, and she
would have fallen to the floor, but for
the supporting arms of the stranger
clasped tenderly around her.
"Father, mother!''
Words and voice were enough. 1t was
indeed their lost William.
"My son. Hath the sea given up its
dead?r asked the old Deacon in husky,
tremulous voice.
| Anu w liltatu GOiu MS StOIy. Al
fearful storm which had burst over their
| vessel in the South Seas, he had fallen
overheard, and all the crew had sup
posed him drowned, but he was picked
up by some natives in boat, while
clinging to broken spar, and carried
to neighboring island. The natives
were kind, but as vessels very rarely
approached the shore, it was two or
mailing ship.
Who shall paint the scene? They
gathered around the tea table, the reuni
ted, too happy to do anything but look
into one another's faces; Jerry's eyes
| filed with rapturous delight at the re-
turn Of TIE new-found brother, whose
affectionate greeting dispelled all fears
that he would regard him as an intruder.
And Mrs. Gray looked from one to
the other of her children. feeling that
surely G ID had rewarded her for the
hour when, with hot tears blintling her
eyes, she haF altered Williams gar
ments for her adopted son, ouly think
ing of him 0s lying dead at the bottom
o. the ocean Was she not douily
blest. and was not her cup of JOY
oppressed down, shaken together, and
running over?' With what emotion did
she gaze upon her son so miraculously
restored.
And the Deacon said, reverently bow
ing his gray head, 20, give thanks unto
the Lord, for He is good, and His mercy
| endureth forever" Eaa a
And SO cit came to pass" that the de
clining years of Deacon Gray and his
wife were gilded with a double glory
and blessing, till like shocks of corn full