Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1869-07-28

cry. Bide bit, and eat and drink wi US
/ Margery, come down, and let us set on tn,
supper
The two women provided quite tempting
repast and they all three sat down to it,
Mrs. Anderson reyerently asked blessing
but the merchant could not eat. lie was on.
| ly hungry for his mothers kisses, only thirsty
for her joyful recognition; yet he could not
bring himself to say TO her" am your
son." He asked himself half grieved, hall
amused, Where are the unerring natural
instincts | have read about in poetry and
novels ?"
His hostess, seeing he did not eat kindly
asked if he could suggest anything he would
be likely to relish. " thank you, madam,
he answered, 1T does seem to me that
should like some oatmeal porridge such as
my mother used to make, if so be you have
any,
" Porridge2" repeated the widow "Ah,
ye mean parritch. Yes, we hac a little left
fra our dinner. Gle it to him, Margery.-
But, mon, its cauld."
Never mind l know shall like it, 4" he re-
joined taking the bowl, aud beginning to stir
the porridge with his spoon. As he did so
Mrs. Maloom gave a slight start, and bent
eagerly toward him. Then she sank in her
chair with a sigh, saying, in answer to his
| questioning look
"Ye minded me O. my Malcom, then, jus
in that way he used to stir his parritch, gio-
ing it whirl aud dirt. All gin ye we're
my Malcom, my poor addict"
"Well then, gin | were your Malcom, ="
said the merchant, speaking for the first time
in the Scotch dialect, and in his own voice ;
" or gin yer Draw young Malcom were as
brown, and bald, and gray, aud bent, and auld
as | am, could you welcome him to your arms,
and love him as in the dear auld lang syne
Could you mther2"
All through this touching little speech the
widows eye had been glstening, and her
breath coming fast but at that word NTH.
err she spraug up with a loud cry, and tot
tering to her son, fell almost fainting on his
breast. He kissed her again aud again
kissed her brow, and her lips, her hands, and
while the big tears slid down his bronzed
checks, while she cluug about his neck, and
called him dear old pet names, aud tried to
see in him all the dear old young looks BY
and by they came back, or the ghosts of them
came back. The form in her embrace grew
comelier love and joy gavcit a second youth,
stately and gracious; the first she then and
there buried deep in her rheart-a sweet, beau
tiful, peculiar memory. 1t was a moment of
solemn remuneration, in which she gave up
the maternal illusion she had cherished so
long Then looking up suddenly in the face
Of the middle-aged man who had taken its
place, she asked
Where hae ye left the wife and BARNS,
Malcom ?"
AT the inn, mother Have you room for
US all at the cottage2n
Indeed, have, two good spare rooms,
wi large closets, weel stocked wi linen haze
been spinning or weaving a these lang years
for ye bath and the weans."
Well, mother dear, now you must rest"
said the merchant, tenderly.
A." Ma, na, | dinna care to rest till We lay
me down to tax me lang rest. Theroll be
time enough between that day and the resur-
rection to fauld my hands in idleness. Now,
would be unco irksome. But go, my son, and
bring me the wife-I hope | shall like her
and the bairns-I hope they will like me-"
have only to say that both the good wo
mans hopes were realized. A very happy
family knelt down in prayer that night, anS
many nights after in the widows cottage
whose climbing roses and woodvines were bu
outward signs aad types of the sweetness an,
blessedness of tho love within.