The weekly standard., 1869-10-27

and cheeks like the rose, and brow like the
snow, and big blue cen, wi ghnt m them,
lkefhe light Of the evening star, Ma ma!
ye are guild enough boy, dinna DOUBT
and decent woman,s son nSuzA1
p Here the nassuelsiing merchant consld-
erably taken down, nadS movement as
though to leave, but the hospitable dame
stayed him, saying, i Gin be hae uave1ea {
the way from India, We maun besprea, ,AHei
hungry Bide a Bit and eat and DRINK w
US Margery, come down, and let US SET on
The two women soon provided quite a
tempting repast, and they all three sat doWn
| 10 it, Mrs. Anderson reyerently asking =
| blessing. But the merchant could NOT eat
He was only hungry for his mothers kisses,
only thirsty for her joyful recognition yet
he could not bring himself to say to her.i
am your son. He asked himself, hall grey
| ed. half amused, . Where are the unerrng
natural instincts, / have read about In
| novels" -
= His hostess. seeing he did not eat, kindly
asked if he could suggest anything he would
| be likely to relish. Il thank you, madam,
| he answered, it does seemf to me that L
| should like some oatmeal porndge, such as
my mother used to make, if 50 be you have
any" .pn.f
'.Porridgein T. repeated the widow. An,
he means paritch. Yes, we hae o little leit
fra dinner. Gle it to him, Margerry. But
mon, guess its cauld-n
I '.Never mind, know, ] should like 1t, he
reioined, taking the bowl, and beginning to
| stir the po1idge with his spoon. As he did
so, Mrs. Anderson gave start, and bent ca
| gerly toward him. Then she sank back in
! her chair with sigh, saying, in answer to
| his questioning look: II =. s,.pss-. !.
z aye minded me o. my Malcolm, then just
| in that way he used to stir his paritch-gier
! ing it whirl and a tlirt. All gin ye were
my Malcolm, my poor laddie q
swell, then, gin ! were your Maicom,
said the merchant, speaking for the first
time in the Scottish dialect, and in his own
voice " or gin your Draw young Malcom
were as brown, and bald, and grey, and bent
and as old as am, could you welcome him
to your arms and love him as in the dear
auld lang synel Could you mither..
All through this touching little speech
the widows eyes had been glistening, and
her breath coming Fast; but at that word
| 'aniither,n she sprang up with cry, and tot
tering 10 her son, fell almost fainting on his
breast. He kissed her; kissed her brow
and her lips, and her hands, the big tears
| slid down his bronzed checks, while she clune
about his neck and called him by all the deal
| old pet names, and tried to see in him the
dear old young looks. By and by they cams
back or the ghosts of them came back. The
form in her embrace grew eomelier; love
and joy gave it second youth, stately and
gracious the first she then and there buriel
deep IN her heart a sweet, beautiful, pecu
liar memory. 1t was moment OF solemn
| remuneration, in which she gave up the fonC
maternal illusion she had cherished so long
Then, looking up suddenly into the face o
the middle-aged man who had taken 1T
place, she asked rr let .-- Ef1s Hoif-i
Where hae We left the wife and BARNS 7
AT the inn, mother. Have you room
for US all at the cottagen q
Indeed ihave-twa good spare room
wi large closets, veal stocked VII linen;
hae been spinning a. these long years for y
bath and the weans." e3eie dgl.
| swell, mother, dear, now you must rest,
rejoined the merchant tenderly. 0yDt
4 "Na, ma. dinna care to rest till We la,
me down to take my lang rest There'l
be time enough between that day and tn
resurrection 10 fauld my idleness. Nov
p 'twould be unco-irksome.i But go, my son
and bring me the wife-I hope I shall lik
her; and the bsirns hope they will lik
me.n rula
l have only to say that both the goo'
woman's hopes were realized. A very happ
family knelt down in prayer that night, ant
many nights after, in the widows cottage
whose climbing roses and woodbines wer
but outward signs and types of the sweet
ness and blessedness Of the love and peac
therein. ,,,-.-.i,,~-i 7,---f,rr,, -rt.. Ell