The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1873-05-29

this many day. But Mr.. Dick had
better wait to ask your forgiveness til
he can ask hers too. You forgive him
maam, says / and that's enough fol
J you, but I maintain that he'd have ne
right to come disturbing your mind tc
ease his own.
"There was one that would have
been glad to see him, had he returned
in ever SO much shame and misery,
said kindly old Mr.. Lee.
Gay, ay," chimed Peter; 81 know
who you mean. You know she was OF
the charity school committee, and wher
the lection board met here, she always
just stepped in yonder and took n LOOK
at that rum picture on the wall. She
never thought saw her. She never
thought nobody was looking at her
My old woman says she always walked
regular among them green avenues by
the old abbey, where she used to walk
with Mr., Dick when he was counting
of her. Maybe she thought he'd be sure
to go there, if he'd ever coined back. u
At that instant the stranger came
suddenly out of the brown closet,
crossed the coGle-room, left the house,
and walked up the street toward the
main quarter of the town.
Quaint old Norham The winter
moonlight lay clear and cold on its an
cient cathedral, standing in its spacious
square of sombre, stately houses. The
stranger stood still and gazed upon it.
That stranger knew little boy who
had attended many IA service in that
cathedral-awed by its sweet music,
wondering at its white-robed choristers.
That little boy had known every face
on that quaint gargoyles of the ancient
chapter-house, and with childlike IA
miliarity he had given name to each
one of those contorted countenances.
That little boy, mufiled in black weep
ers, had stood beside an open grave
right under the great west window, and
listened to the funeral services over a
little sister. The stranger went to seek
that grave--went straight to it without
one mistaken step. But it is not a little
grave any more, for under the name of
"Amy Rogerson, aged four, is written,
"Also the Rev. Rogerson, father of the
above aged 70. Also his wife Amelia,
aged 60. Also their son Thomas, aged
49,"
Oh, little sister, who went SO long be-
fore, how much did you know of earth
while you were growing up in heaven :?
Was not your father very glad on the
day when he entered rest ard joined the
folded lamb of happier times? Oh, lit
tie sister, is there any look on the face
of an angel, whose human heart was
broken?
The stranger stood still by that house
hold tomb, and looked around. There
was another grave which that little boy
had Enown-the family grave of that
little boys playfellows, the Herons.
But the stranger knew that he could not
find that grave in the twilight, though
he could have found the sway to their
houses in the utter darkness
He crossed the Cathedral square, and
issued out on Norham High street. The
shops were very bright with Christmas
goods, and busy with Christmas trade.
There was little, thin, sharp-looking
widow, with boy on one side and a
girl on the other, gazing intently into
the best Diapers shop. The stranger
stood still when he first saw them, and
then he went up slowly and stood be-
hind them.
cts no good wasting our time, Mar
goy," said the mother, for we can't af-
ford to buy anything"
"But looking dosen't spend, man.
ma" pleaded Margey, "and I'd like to
plan what I'd give you if could, NAM
ma, and to chose what l should like you
to give me. There, you should have
that beautiful thick black silk, and it
should be made with one deep founce
like the mayors wife's, and you should
have that soft gray shawl to wear with
it. And l would have two of those
merinos,-a dark brown for every day,
and an olive green for Sundays, andon
of those neat, plain black-cloth jackets.
And there's Tom gone off to look at the
watches. Tom is going to savo sixpence
week to buy one, mamma, but won't
it take long time ?"
"Ah, / wish L could give you chill
dren pleasant surprises" said mamma,
wistfully. 81 was so fond of that kind
of tricks once upon time"
"And so you are still, nanny DEAR"
Margey replied, pressing fondly to her.
"Isn't it always a pleasant surprise
when you make us fig pudding? I'm
sure we are very happy, and won't
talk any more of my nonsense if it
worries you.
Then the little group passed on and
the tall stranger followed them out of
the glare of the gas-light into small
by-way, where they entered a house
with "Mrs. I. Rogersons day school