The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1876-01-19
0oxNo HOME.

It was scarcely more than an hours drive
along a quiet country road. For mile or
two the reluctant village struggled after.
Then ve PASSED solitary farm houses and la
borers' cottages vineyard, an old grave
yard and the rugged sides Of rocky hill.
And then little belt Of wooded swamp lands
stretched out its arms Of III, and pine, and
.hemlock, full Of spicy odogs, and merry. little
birds; and squirrels and gray rabbits, ali the
SIMMER long. In the winter this was the
place Where the fairies hung out their wash
iags and sometimes their pearls and,diamonds
Beyond. the road grew rougher and narrower.
winding up Hill aud down HILL over tumbling
brooks and noisy river,
But every rod Of the way was as familiar
as our fathers house. We knew where and
when to look for the waxen cups Of shining
laurel, for pink azaleas, for the earliest May
flowers, and the latest trials of clematis and
swinging southern moss. We knew, too
when a meadow fence had been built, or
mended, and saw, with ready interest, every
patch of now shingles on a wayside house or
barn. We noted whose haying was eoufing
on earliest, whose woodpile Was tBe, largest
and whose corn promised best while every
face we met was the face of friend. So
with many nod and a smile, and word of
neighborly greeting, we drove at last faster,
as we came to the end Of our journey, up to
our fathers door.
They had heard from within the sound
of our coming wheels and there. on the
threshold, stood our mother, smiling and
stretching out her hands. Presently, from
across the street, and across the gardens, one
and another of our friends camo in, always
so glad to see us. Glad to SEQ us for our
selves, and glad for the ripple of outside life we
brought to the quiet ncighborbood. The Ia
BILE was laid with tie choicest of farm and
dairy the little family troubles were brought
out for consideration and sympathy as we'll as
the family joys and for our brief stay we
were the centre Of the household ait. neigh
borhood.
But of all the pleasures of the welcome
Tome, the smiling mother With the otttstretch-
ed hands is the dearest symbol row. 1t is
eight years since the eager hands wefe folded
ior their rest unucr the grass on the ntffSfdc.
Folded forevers We go ana come, and Come
and 10, but they beckon nevermore. We see
the white headstone that says so little, and
yet so much, from the windows of the room
that was hers, but We see nothing besides.
Has that loving heart forgotten then? Are
the hands to be stretched out to us never
agains Ere the swift feet stayed forever in
their comfngs No! No ii is Oily that our
journey homo is not yet accomplished. This
empty, hungry, aching mother-want " will
be some day satisfied,
We are on our journey, up hin and down
hill. and IN all sorts Of weather. Along fi-
mniliar scenes, ahd among friendly faces
Nearer and nearer, faster and faster AL
ready they, within the vale, may have heard
the sound of our coming, and be pressing to
meet us with out-strctching welcome. The
things which God hath prepared have not
entered into the heart of a man, but we have
each our own thought and expectation Of
heaven. And for me, my heaven is as q go
ing home. And as the heavens are higher
than the earth, SO will be the joy of that home
coming higher than the joy of this.