Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1871-01-20

he looked out oil The WINDOW toward the
churchyard. lie could just see the stone
wall, with its heavy crown of snow, piled
aud wrealhed into fantastic shapes, Ly
that inimitablc artist, the wind. As tie
moon arose and shoue across the glitter
ing drifts, he could distinguish the top Of
smaA weeping willow rising above the
wall. and he knew that under that tree
his mother lay buried He thought Of
the cold, shIoudcd form as he had last
seen it, with the trace OF the dying smile
on the faded lips; and ;tlI forgclIul of the
ghastIy change whichtw years and more
in The grave had wrought in his mothers
form, fair as il was, and more than year
in that Of his lRtlo sister who slept by her
side. he wished that he might open those
graves and see those loved ones once
more. His heart ached as only children's
hearts can ache under the pressure of Il
great grief. heavy enough to make a
strong man weep, and without the
stGeAgth TO bear it. which philosophy,
mental cultivation, or, best of all, Chris
tjan faith, gives to maturcr years.
The stovepipe from the room below ran
up through his room, and the noise made
by his aunt ia brushing around the sto' o
recalled her remark at ont. the picture,
and he said TO himself: II wonder il
shall not remind them OF my mother?
should think they would want nc out Of
.he way"
Just then he remembered how, the day
before his father went away, he bad
shown him the very picture he now held
in his hand, how his fttheu looked long
and earnestly At it himself. and then look
cd into his eyes and told him that he look
ed like his mother. and added -
II want yol 10 he very particular aud
remember all that YOU can Of your mother
my son. There are very lew such wom-
en- in the world as she was
And then he remembered. what he
certainly had not thought much OF at the
,imc, that he laid the picture in the drawer
from which Martha had taken il IS revcr.
entity rs he would have laid The form Of
his beloved to rest, closed and locked it
aud put the key in his vest pocket. He
remembered that he had seen Miss Mar.
Ina Try to open it in the morning, and
hen he knew that she mast have search-
cd the vest his father left at home when
he went away, and found the key.
While thinking the matter over. the
impression that his aunt did not knox all
about ii grew stronger, and his confidence
in his father, which had been sadly shak.
en- for a moment, began torctun. These
thoughts with his sorrow, the graveyard,
and the likeness, mingled themselves
With less important mat e's. and he went
off in u whirliug dance into drcamland,
and with his head piilowed on his ARA, he
was asleep.
When a man of true and tender spirit
is driven by loneliness into second mar.
riase, the gossips are very apt to cx-
claim:-
La, couldn't have thought that he
would have forgot his poor wife 50 soon,
and he always seemed So fond of her too.
well, that is Just the way with the
men. The best OF them arc just aS bad
as the rest. said Miss In ilha ralkativc,
who had failed to make herself under.
stood by her delicate attention 10 the
lonely minisic, and his little son.
And so sail the rest OF the clan when.
after two years Of tiia, he brought Il step
mother 10 his puny boy.
Forget! What did thcy know about it?
How could they know how that gentle
yoice rung in his ears in his waking
hours, and often startled him flom his
pillow TO respond to her call? How that
slender form was ever gliding around
hi, study chair, and tempting him to look
around for her approving smile upon his
work, till he would drop his pen and
turn to see nothing but empty air? How
could they know. when he hesitaled in
the sermon and his brow flushed and
then grew pale, that il was because he
had, from long habit, glanced down at
her pew to see ii she was interested in
the discourse, to have the terrible re-
membrance strike him that she was not
there? He had borne up under this,
hoping to find comfort and companions
ship in his children. But when his little
daughter, whose step and voice were al
ready so much like those of her mother,
went to bed one evening apparently well
and awoke in the night sutfocatlng with
cIoup, aud bresthed her last before the
next mornings sun was well up in the
heavens-thc bitterness OF his first be.
reavement came back with double force.
He felt that mothers watchlul care
might have avertcd the catastrophe, and
hencetorth there were two shadows
around his way instead of one. He felt
that this was inpairing his usefulness as
a minister; and he saw, toe, that his son
did not get mothers care from busy
Miss Martha, who was his wife's cousin,
I,I -, hn OIL i;ci,-
ment Tor some time before her death.
She was a good dhousckc and thought
that she fulfilled the duties of mistress of
the parsonage quite as well as any lady
could
IL p...aA nnh Ii hridn drnrn I'M 10