The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1873-05-29

: he saw, seated in an easy chair at cot
tage door, feeble and inirm old man
whom he only remembered as hale AM
hearty laborer; but they had all forgot
ten him, and he passed on unknown.
The last soft light Of the setting SUI
had fallen on the earth, casting rlci
glow on the yellow corn sheaves, anC
lengthening the shadows of the orchard
trees. as he stood before the old house
the home Of his infancy-to which his
heart had yearned with an intensity Of
affection not to be described through long
and weary years Of captivity and sorrow.
The paling was low, though he well re-
membered the time when it had seemed
a high wall to him and he looked over
into the old garden. There were more
seeds and gayer flowers than there used
to be, but there were the old trees still
! the very trees under which he had lain q
| thousand times when tired Of playing in
| the sun, and felt the soft mild sleep of
happy boyhood steal gently upon him.
/ There were voices within the house. He
| listened, but they fell strangely upon his
/ ear; he knew them not. They were
merry too; and he well knew that his
| poor old mother could not be cheerful,
/ and he away The door opened, and
group of little children bounded out,
shouting and romping. The father, with
a little boy III his arms, appeared at the
door, and they crowded around him,
clapping their tiny hands, and dragging
him out to join their joyous sports. The
convict thought on the many times he
had shrunk from his fathers sight in that
l. hon
he had buried his trembling head beneath
the bed-clothes, and heard the harsh
word and the hard stripe, and his
mothers wailing; and though the man
sobbed aloud with agony of mind as he
left the spot, his fist was clenched and
his teeth were set, in fierce and deadly
passion.
And such was the return to which he
had looked through the weary perspective
of many years, and for which he had I'M
dergone so much suffering No face Of
welcome, no look of forgiveness, no
house to receive, no hand to help him
and this, too, in the old village What
was his loneliness in the wild thick woods,
where man was never seen, to this.
He felt that in the distant land 81 his
bondage and nfamy, he had thought Of
his native place as it was when he left it j;
not as it would be when he returned
The sad reality struck coldly at his heart,
and his spirit sank within him. He had
not courage to make inquiries or to pre-
sent himself to the only person who was
likely to receive him with kindness and
compassion. He walked slowly on and
stunning the roadside like Il guilty man,
turned into a meadow he well remember |
ed; and, covering his face with his
hands, threw himself upon the grass
He had not observed that a man was
lying on the bank beside him; his gar
ments rustled as he turned round to steal |
a look at the new conner; and Edmunds |
raised his head
The man had moved into a sitting pos
ture. His body was much bent, and his /
face was wrinkled and yellow. His dress
denoted him as an inmate of the work |
house; he had the appearance of being
very old, but it looked more the effect Of |
or disease than length Of |
years. He was staring hard at the
stranger, and though his eyes were lustre-
less and heavy at first, they appeared to
glow with an unnatural and alarmed ex-
preston after they had been fixed upon
him for short time, until they seemed |
to be starting from their sockets. Ed
munds gradually raised himself to his
knees, and looked more and more ear
nestly upon the old mans face. They |
gazed upon each other in silence
The old man was CHASTITY pale. He
shuddered and tottered to his feet Ed
munds sprang to his He stepped back
pace or two. Edmunds advanced
Let me hear you speak" said the
convict, in thick, broken voice.
Stand off cried the old man, with
a dreadful oath. The convict drew closer
to him.
Stand OFF, shrieked the old man.
Furious with terror, he raised his stick
and struck Edmunds a heavy blow across
the face.
sFather-devil !" murmured the con-
Wet, between his teeth. He rushed Wild
ly forward, and clenched the old man by
the throat but he was his father; and /
his arm fell powerless by his side
The old man uttered loud yell, which /
rang through the lonely fields like the
howl of an evil spirit. His face turned
black the gore rushed from his mouth
and nose, and dyed the grass a deep,
dark red as he staggered and fell. He
had ruptured blood vessel and he was
a dead man before his son could raise him.
X x x
In that corner of the church yard there
lies buried man, who was in my employ
ment for three years after this event, and
who was truly contrite, penitent, and
humble, if ever man was. No one save
myself knew in that mans lifetime who
he was, or whence he came; it was John
the returned convict.