Western Reserve chronicle. [volume] (Warren, Ohio) 1855-1921, 1869-04-07
The Unexpected Son.


Ore summer afternoon. Mr.. Mall
com Anderson arrived with his fami-
" at his native town. Putting up at
the little inn, he proceeded to dress
himself in a suit OF sailors clothes,
and then walked out alone. By a
path he well knew, and through a
shady lane, dear to his hazel-nut DAYS,
all strangely unchanged, he approach
cd his mothers cottage. He stopped
for a few moments to curb down his
heart that was bounding to meet that
mother, and to clear his eyes of sud-
den mist of happy tears. Through
the open window he caught glimpse
of her. sitting alone at her spinning
wheel. as in the old times. But alas,
how changedl Bowed was the dear
form once so erect, and silvered the
locks once so brown, and dimmed the
eyes once so full Of tender brightness,
like dew-stained violsts. But the voice
with which she was grooming to her.
self. was still sweet, and there was on
her cheek The same love peach bios
som of twenty years ago.
At length he knocked, and the dear
voice called to him in the simple old
fashioned way:
Coon bent" (come in
The widow rose at the sight of q
stranger. and courteously offered him
a chair. Thanking her in an. assumed
voice, somewhat grufT. he sank down,
As though weary, saying that he was
a wayfarer. strange to the country,
and asking the way to the next town.
The twilight favored him in his little
ruSe he saw that she did not recOg-
nize him, even as one she had ever
seen. But, after giving him the in
formation he desired, she asked him
if he was n ScOtchman by birth.
"Yes, madam, = he replied, "but /
have been away in foreign parts many
years. / doubt if my own mother
would know me now, though she was
very fond of me before ! went to sea.
"Ah, mOni it's little ye ken about
mithers gin We think sac. | can tell
We there is nae mortal memory like
theirs" the widow somewhat warm
ly replied: then added: "And where
hae We been for sac lang a time, that
We hae lost a the Scotch fra your
speech!"
"In India-in Calcutta. madam"
"Ah. then, its likely We ken some
thing o my son, Mr.. Aaleom Ander-
son - ...
Anderson" =" repeatd the visitor, as
though striving TO remember. There
may be some of that name in Calcuttai
but is your son q rich merchant, and
a man OF. about my age and size, and
something such q figure-head.
"My son is a rich merchant" re-
piled the widow proudly; "but he is
younger than you by many long
year and, beggin' your pardon, sir,
far BONNER. He is tall and straight,
Wi hands and feet like n lassie's, he
had brown curly hair, se thick and
glossy, and cheeks like roses, and q
brow like the snaw, and the blue cen
VII a CLINT in them like the light of
the evening star. Ma, ma, ye are no
like my Malcolm, though We are guId
enuf body, I dinna doubt, ard q de-
cent woman's SON."
Here the merchant made a move
ment as though to leave, but the Wild
ow stopped him, saying, "Gin We hoe
Travelled all the way from India, We
maum be tired and hungry. Bide a
a bit. and eat and drink with us.
AIargery, come down, and let us set
on the supper"
The two women soon provided sup
per, and Mrs. Anderson reverently
asked a blessing; but the merchant
could not eat. His hostess seeing this
asked if he could suggest anything he
could relish.
"I thank you madam he said it
does seem to me that 1 should like
some oatmeal porridge, such as my
mother used to make, if you have
any"
"Porridge," repeated the widow,
''ye mean pattrich. Yes, we have a
little left fre our dinner. Gle him it,
Margery. But, mon, it's cauld.n
Never mind, / know 1 shall like
it, he rejoined taking the bowl and
stirring the pOrridge with a spoon.
Then She sank back in her chair with
A sigh saving, aye minded me o. my
Malcom, then-just in that way he
used to stir his pattrich-gieing it a
hirt. All, Gin We were my Malcom,
my poor laddie -
"Weel, then, gin l were yer NAL
com, said the merchant, speaking in
the Scottish dialect and his own voice,
''or Gin yer Draw young Malcolm We're
as brown, and bald, and gray, and
bent, and as old as / am, could We
welcome him to your arms, and love
him rs the dear 'auld lang sine"
could We, mither?"
All through this touching little
speech the widows eyes had been
and her breath came fast;
but at the word "mither," she sprang
up with a glad cry, tottering to her
son sank almost fainting on his breast.
He kissed her again and again, while
the big tears slid down his cheeks
while she clung about his neck and
called him by all the dear old pet
names, and tried to see in him all the
dear, old, young looks. BY and by
they came back-or the ghost of them
came back. Then looking up steadi-
ly into the face of the middle aged
man who had taken its place, she
asked: "Where have ye left the wife
and BARNS ~
"At the inn, mother, have you room
for Us at the cottage? ,"
Indeed l he-twa good spare
rooms, wi large closets, well stocked
wi linen / hfR been spinning or WeaN-
ing a. these long years, for We baith,
and the weans."
'Well mother, dear you must rest
reioined the merchant tenderly.
ma, ma, 1 dinna care to rest till We lay
me down to TAX me long rest. There
will be time enough between that day
and the resurrection TO fold my hands
i'm idleness. Now twould be uncO-
irksome. But go, my son, and bring
me the wife-I hope 1 shall like her
and the BARNS 1 hope they will
like me-"
Both the good woman's hopes We're
realized. 4 happy family knelt
down to prayer that night.
An old English Kitchen.
The kitchen of our old English an
cestors were, of course, destitute OF
many of our modern conveniences and
aids. Still in England the cottages