Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1874-02-03
Stlttt Sturp.
FINDING \ HOME.

Philip Bar,ol was an odd genius. a,
we shall see before We are doue with
him. Well Tor him that be possessed
lorJiJude and persistence. lie asked NO
mans advice touching the manner OF
lite he should puJ>ue.
~ the ase OF TWO and twenty. Philip
BAIO. came home from sea with his miEd
al.de gp that he would so;o sea no more,
%, least Tor lhe present. Not ~ m1st
young men study did Philip Butol then
study. lie did not cast about Tor tie
greatest sum OF present comforts and
joys. Ia the solitude of his chamber. a,
al obscure tavern, he sat and ponder ed
The mental picture be drew was old age
What Kind of an old age would he Ike to
arrive II That was the question in his
mind: aud after a long and serious study
BE- concluded what he would like lor the
surroundings OF lis advancing years aud
he also planned what he would dotoward
the desired end
And Philip Bar,ol went out and bought
him a knapsack. Into which he packed a
change of clothing. an0 then, in a stout.
homely garb-such garo rs toilers wear
lie Was ready 10 set forth.
And despite the bronze upon his skin,
aud the garb OF toll rha, clothed him.
Philip Was handsome man lie was
tall and stout; iulI and perfect in every
manly point; erect and ti,m; with mag
niic,ut head upon his broad sholdeIs /;
aud face in which the dauntless light OF
honor and courage enhanced an y herwise
classic beauty.
Where now, Philip" asked a friend,
who had observed his notes Of prepara
ton
Into the country, Tom, in search OF a
home"
a home p
Yes home That's what am
going to try TO find.
1t was on an evening in June that Phil.
ip BaIlol arrived in the quiet village ol
Ashton. and here he sought for work. lie
found it upon the farm Of worthy man,
who was glad enough TO secure The ser
vices OF 50 able and homes, an appearing
laJorer. The farmer was Mr.. Larabee,
"A deacon Of the village church. His
dwelling was in the village, his broad
acres stretched away over the hills aud
wales beyond.
Philip worked well, aud As be worked
he sang Saturday evening came. and
the church choir met at the Deacon's
house to practice.
Would not Philip join them ?
Without pride Philip elt that his voice
would be help to them. and he joined
Them cheeilully.
4 Ahelp indeed. Such voice had never
been heard in Ashton before, God makes
our native leaders. and sc recognize AID
adopt them Philip BarIol could moi
.ing in that choir and not lead ii.
Oh course he sat in the singer. seats on
the Sabbath, and thus he leaped, at q
bound. into the good graces OF the tain
country town.
On that Saturday evening, in the Dea
cons parlor. Philip caught sound that
startled him. Ii was a female voice. as
clear as q flute, and as soft as the dulcimel
OF a mocking bird. Ia its lowest and in
lis highest strains there was not - harsh
cadence. Such voice is not only atrac'
live, bu, il Is au index TO the inner being
Philip looked upon the owner ol the voice
aud he was not disappointed. A CIR
Just bursting into perfect womanhood-
perhaps twenty years Of age-healthlu
aud glowing-her form exactly such a;
PhidiaS would bavo chosen for his model
of female pertection-and her dress nea
and simple. Her face was always happy
when she was ginging With her friends
and the rich brown eurls hoated dowr
on her shoulders, sweeping back from hel
fair, handsome brow, with not particle
of ornamentation save the wave and the
gloss which nature had given them.
Al The first recess The deacon, who hat
been an appreeiative listener, Introduce
his new hand to the other singers. ant
thus Philip found that girl OF the swee
voice and sunny face was Clara Palmer
the daughter OF the village physician.
When they resumed their places loI