The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1876-09-07

rusty. steeple-topped hat to the sole OF his
tallow- soaked COW hides. he was renewed
in the outer man lie had even exchanged
his pOndrOus silver watch for an elegant
gold one. In place OF the porcelain shirt
buttons with which ketury had always
adorned his PLAN cotton shirt the deacon
appeared with gold studs in Il nicely pol
ished linen shirt bosom, gold sleeve-but-
tons, aud divers other worldly yanilies
such us made a great stir in the Cedar
Creek meeting house but it was only be-
cause he wore such clothes others there
had always dressed as we'll You may be
sure the young folks stared at him, rs he
sat, dressed thus, with Mr.. and Mrs Bor-
land, looking on at the sports of the quilt
ing and the question was whispered
from one to anthor:
"What on earth has come over Deacon
Jehiel ?"
They soon found that the autumn sun
had come out in brighter radiance than its
earlier glory, and that life's Indian sum-
mer had come for him with bright skies.
with flowers, ant, with the singing of birds
in the heart.
One morning soon after this, the Dea-
con called his sister-in-law and her daugh-
tels into the parlor, and said:
II have a plan to lay before YOU. | shall
need this house for myself, now. You may
live beside me in the stone cottage, or
will build you a little house in the village y
"We will stay as near you as we can
but who is to take my place here ?n asked
the widow in amazement
"You remember Matilda Day, the girl
to whom gave my pet COW Dilly, on her
wedding day. A few weeks ago | heard
of her for the first time in many long
years Her husband was never worthy OF
her. He ran through her property and
| his own, and then took her into the will
derness to live, away from all privileges
Of schools, churches and society. She has
had :. hard life. She buried her oldest
children, and was left alone very poor,
and three young boys
"From boyhood up had always expect
ed to marry Matilda, but | was too slow in
telling her so The rich farmer from the
next town stepped in and married the only
woman | ever loved choked down my
grief, held up my head, gave her my best
cow danced at her wedding. kissed her,
wished her much joy, and then went home
with broken heart 1t was long time
before | could bear to see the sun shine
after that. Life and al! around me- but
| Just my mother, was changed. | became
gloomy, selfish man. But God came and
brought peace and life, and then sought
| to do all the good could for others for
| His sake. AS time went on the wound
| healed but the scar remained. | knew
| was a stupid, awkward man in the esteem
of others. and SO | kept out OF the way
except when duty called me forward. |
| had forgotten that the world, in itself, had
any charms till You came here and brought
| the fresh air and sunshine to these dull
dark rooms. When you brought home that
| rose geranum in full bloom it carried me
back twenty-five years, when one Just lik e
it stood in Matilda Days window The
songs the girls sing are the slme She
sung. newly arranged, and with other
names.
Not many weeks ago, had, as you
yer, the Western man. who staid over
night with Us In talking with him
said
a suppose you never happened to meet
with man in Your State named Voter
son Blake"
Certainly | have a thousand times
blt YOU hlloN Ililll liC oulNl
"When | told him he was almost a
| townsman Of mine, he said
| ".Poor fellow he made a sad wreck
! of bright prospects. He died poor, three
years ago, and lett his wife and boys in a
sad condition; but she's a jewel of Il wo,
man Everybody loves her. We would
all have been glad to help her, but she
had her own idea Of independence, which
| she wished to instil into the hearts of her
boys SO she gave the incumbered farm
over to Blakc's creditors, moved into the
| next town, and set up a school for little
girls
"Belore he went away the next morn
! INC. | drew Il check for a hundred dollars.
and sent it tC the boys from an old
| schoolmate of their mothers, and resov
| ed to devise some plan to start them in
| lite
The more thought Of it. the more
felt that Matilda Day could make the
world new for me yet; and | worte and
told her so.
Next month am going West to bring
her and her boys home | want you to
stay with lis till you get u home OF your
own. | can never be thankful enough for
your coming to me. 1t has broken the
dreadful spell that boundm me, and brought
me back to live among others; before, |
| only worked for them at arms length
Now that | love all the world more, my
life will hencetorth be of more service to
Christ and those he loves and pities'
The old stone cottage was repaired and
furnished before Deacon Jehiel set off on
his momentous journey; and the widow
and her daughters, now nearly grown up,
were rejoicing in the prospect OF new
and loving neighbor and friend.
| Matilda Blake, although mature wo-
man Of forty-tuur years. brought back
more sunshine than she had taken away
from her native place "A quarter OF a cen
tury before. Her anXieties and sorrows
had sottened and frightened the natural
loveiness of her character. and made her
Il blessing, not only at the farm, but also
in the church and the town.
The Indian summer had indeed come
to the deacon's hitherto clouded life, and
his heart and his house were opened
airesh to the whole world. He looked
henceiorh, more lenenty on the tolles
of the Young, and more charltably on the
right way His voice. his features. his
Silt - lnuceu, lne "nole ildil, - "tlc
changed from u solemn, unsympathizing
bachelor as he used to be regarded, to a
genial husband. father, friend, and Chris
tan worker
There is nothing like solitary life to
fix perpetual winter in the heart. There
is nothing like companionship with the
good and true. who need aid and sympa-
thy, to bring back summer-althoug it
may be an Indian summer-to the heart.
A touching incident is reported from
Chattanooga. An utter stranger called
on respectable farmer last week, and
asked him if his house had not been rob-