Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1873-06-14
iArN'
NO. 141.
Gales aud 4ketfhes.
THAT TROUBLESOME BEN.
CONTINUED PROM YESTERDAY. !

X
wanderer home. How the poor simple lad
would have stared to see the preparations
made to receive him! His own little room.
formerly so bare, now looked as pretty as
Flora's. with its bright new carpet, pic
lures, books and vases full of flowers. In
the kitchen a grand dinner was preparing,
over which presided Mrs Wilkie, all ex-
citement, in new muslin cap, with law
ender ribbons. Her cheeks had grown
very thin. her hair was nearly white
Poor soul. what year Of suffering and re-
morse the last had been to her.
That bright, busy. happy day passed,
and evening came, bringing with it the
chill of disappointed hopes. A letter
came from Mr.. Wilkie, saying the vessel
had not yet arrived-they must wait pa
tienuy, a few days more. -
Days passed by, and grew into weeks,
and with every day the poor mothers eyes
grew hopeless, her faded cheeks more wan.
She crept quietly about the house. attend
ing to her household duties, but seldom
speaking to anyone. Her daughters
watched her an Rxiously-they would almost
have welcomed her former garrulous fret
fulness. ..t.t...
Yet hope was not quite dead in the poor
mothers heart. though she Showed it in
silent way. Every morning she went into
Ben's little room, busting it carefully, and
with her poor old hands filled the vases
Flora brought her. Then, with one fond,
lingering look, she went down stairs 10
another day of sorowful suspense.
Another letter and another came from
the absent father, who seemed to be fast
losing hope. And at last he wrote that he
was coming home"
81 can't stand ii any longer. said the
letter. 81 have nothing to do here, but to
think. and the suspense is killing me.
| must go back to my daily work. Cheer
up Your poor mother. William. rs much as
YOU can--tell her she must not give up
hope yet. Brother William is most kind,
and promises to be on the lookoutf for news
of the ship" *.> y ~ @@A
William read this letter to his mother.
standing by the sitting room window.
The sunlight streamed IN, making her
face look older, more death-likc. as she
stood, her bent form encircled by the
young mans arm.
Cheer mp dear mother" he said, ten
derby, you hear father says we must not
give up hope yet"
She moved away in silence. He fol-
lowed her. asking anxiously where she
was going.
10 my own room she said teebly
Don't disturb me, children, till Your ia
ther comes home'
All that afternoon she sat in her cham
! Der, her hands clasped on her knee, her
grey head meekly bent. Every now and
then her lips moved convulsively. as if
muttering some word of prayer.
The daughters, pale and frightened,
stole in and out, not knowing what to do
OF say, till at last, towards evening. Flora
came in bringing some tea and toast she
had prepared.
"Dear MOTHER she said, "do try TO ea,
II little something! You look as fyou
would faint away" And-in Il tremulous
voice-"we need not give up hope yet
William says"
Don't Flora y moaned the mother, hid
ing her face. 1--WE no hope," she went
on in broken voice. II lost my chance
that night-when | wouldn't return my
boys kiss. or give him a kind word Oh
dear! It's too late now-.toO late! :" her
voice rising in a sudden passionate wall.
Flora stood by shocked and frightened,
stroking her mothers hair. Checking her
sobs by violent effort, the poor soul said
gently:
Leave me. dear, leave mel can't ea,
nothin' now. Tell me when your IA
ther-"Iier voice died away.
Flora crept TO distant corner of the
room. Her mothers head dropped again,
and her eyes closed. She was weary. and
spent with sorrow and many sleepless
nights. From the neighboring village
came the sweet chime of bells, calling to
evening prayers. The sounds fell soo,h-
ingly upon her weary spiri,-they seemed
10 speak forgiveness and peace.
Suddenly she found herself sitting in
her arm chair below. The hall door was
open; beyond the garden gate she saw
i the narrow street, the stretch Of field be-
yond. Over all the sun shone brightly,
but a sad foreboding chilled her heart.
Her boy. she was waiting for him, but he
did not come. She would have gone in
search of him, but her limbs refused to
move.
IIark! Was that the creaking of the
' garden gate 1t was coming then-some-
thing from which she shrank. scarce know
ing what it was. There was a low rustling
near her, then voice spoke out sharply
and loud, as if close to her ear:
"Wheres mother?'
Mrs. Wilkie sprang up rs Il shot, her
uuiycrinu hands outstretcipd, her eyes
peerpg wildly into the gloom. Then she
; saw her husbands anxious face opposite
and clutched his arm.
daniel. he called me Livin "a dead
heard him call me Oh, tell"
There, Martha, hush, hush." said her
husband, soothingly, pressing her to his
breast "Let us thank God. my dear
He has been very good to us.'
is my boy alive. thena" with pierre
ing cry.
"Ycs. mother, yes. Why | told you
not to give up hope. Ben, dear boy, come
here
Somebody. waiting outside, darted in at
this summons. Somebody who stumbled
over chair in his haste, and rushing up
TO his mother. claspcd her with the ardor
of an affectionate bear. She put her feeble
arms about his neck, and her head drop
ped heavily on his shoulder.
"Help me to lift your mother on the
LCoACLUDsD on FOURTH PAeE.1