Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1871-05-17
"You said you had a message from him.

You said you had message from him -
''Yes, lady"
Give it to NE. Oh, tell me what he
said
The stranger put his hands out again to
the fire, and his frame quivered as though
he were cold. In few moments he said ::
Thomas Anderson told me his story
told it with tears running down his cheeks,
and with many bitter sobs. He told me how
he left his wife and infant child-how he
had sunk from bad to worse, and how in a
moment of madness, he struck his faithful
companion to the floor When he saw what
he had done fear and remorsc seized upon
him, and when his naighbors had come in,
and he saw his wife in better hands than
his, he fed from his home Shame and
mad fire had gone out of his veins he found
himself in place where great ships came
and went. He resolved that he would be a
man again if he lived but he dared not
return to his home until he could carry with
him some proof of his sincerity. He wen;
in ship bound for India, and he meant
when he had grown strong, to write home
cheering words to his wife But it was not
to be so. In the Indian Ocean the ship
was cast away upon strange Island, and
he with three others, the only ones saved OF
the crew, remained three years. Finally a
Spanish trader picked them up, and once
more they were cast upon the African coast
where two more years were spent. At that
time Anderson was picked up by an English
ship, bound for Australia. He landed III
Melbourn, where he remained until l got
| ready to leave him. He has been man
he has done well-and if he knew that his
wire had forgiven him, and that she would
let him come home; he would spend the
rest of his life in trying to make some atone
ment for the past
80, sir, cried Mary Anderson, claspine
her hands and weeping while she spoke
you don't know how good and noble he
was before he suffered Q, if he cdu!t
know how l have loved him-how l have
borne his image in my heart, forgiven alway:
| he would not stay away"
But lady, Thomas Anderson will com,
back to you no longer poor. In the sarc
he has gathered for himself much wealth
He has gathered sum that might seem al
most fabulous to the honest people of thi
place-gathered it not for himself-no, no
but for those whom he hoped to bless-Fo
| his wife and child"
Come he rich, or come he poor-comt
| he to give me succor, or come he to b,
nursed in weakness and want-if he only
comes with the love he pledged me in the
bright morning of our youth, | will take
him to my bosom and bless him with a wife
true affection"
So spoke Mary Anderson and as the
words fell from her lips the strong man star
| ted to his feet with his arms outstretched
fro, and then, as though all his life anC
strength had left him he sank down upor
his knees, and covering his face with hi!
hands, he sobbed aloud:
20, God Thus upon my knees how
often have | prayed for this my wife
my child -
They were down by his side-their arm
were about him-they called him HUSBAND
and father-and the bright fire light shont
upon their mingling tears.
| In the morning the storm was passed anC
the sun came brightly up. late in tn,
forenoon tie stage came along the road witt
strong, busy hands and dug through tht
drined snow; but Ellen Anderson did no
go away in it. And many suns arose, beam
! ing warm and brightly upon the house o
! Mary Anderson but the light and warmth
| from without was nothing to the light auC
warmth within.
| The love of the earlier time had been re
hewed, aud the noon day of life turned to
wards the evening with promise of JOY mad
richer end more enduring by the stern trial
! Cf the dark years which ended in the winte
/ storm.