Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1877-01-26
THE RECOGNITION.

a story of one Malcolm Anderson, who at
the age of sixteen left his widowed mother
in the Highlands Of Scotland 10 seek his
fortune as a sailor. Amer several voyages,
the proceeds of which were largely bestow-
cd on his mother, he went 10 India, and
there by diligence and shrewdness became
wealthy. As his fortunes improved, lie
| cared for his mother and sent her money
enough 10 secure and repair her cottage
home, and annually RENTED enough 10
pay her expenses and pay the wages of
faithful servant or companion who abode
with her.
Entangled in business cares, Mr.. Ander-
son never found time and freedom for the
long voyage and visit home till at last,
falling health, and the necessity of educat-
ing his children, compelled him to abrupt
| ly wind up his affairs and return TO Scot
land. He was then a man somewhat over
forty, but looking far older than his years,
showing all the i'll effects Of the trying cli-
mate OF India. His complexion was SAL
low brown; he was gray aud somewhat
bald, with here and there a dash Of white
| to his dark auburn beard he was thin and
a little bent, but his youthful smile remain
ed full of quiet drolery, and his eye had
not lost its old gleeful sparkle, by poring
over ledgers and counting rupees.
He had married a country woman,
the daughter of a Scotch surgeon, aud
had two children, a son and a daugh-
| ter. He did not write 10 his good mother
that he was coming home, as he wished to
| surprise her, and test her memory OF her
| sailor boy. The voyage was made with
| safety.
One summer afternoon, Mr.. Malcolm
| Anderson arrived with his family in his
native town. Putting up at the little inn
| he proceeded TO dress himself in a suit of
sailors clothes, and then walked ont alone.
BY by-psth he well knew, aud then
through a shady lane, dear TO his young,
hazel-nutting days all strangely unchanged,
he approached his mothers cottage. He
| stopped for few moments on the lawn out
| side, to curb down the heart that was
| bounding TO meet that mother, and 10 clear
his eyes OF a sudden mist OF happy tears.
Through the open window he caught a
| glimpse Of her, sitting alone at her spin
ming wheel, as in the old time. But alas,
how changed! Bowed was the dear form
occe erect, and silN cred the locks once so
brown, and dimmed the eyes once 50 full
of tender brightness, like dew stained v;o-
lets. But the voice, with which she was
grooming softly TO herself, was still sweet,
and there was on her cheek the same love-
ly peach bloom Of twenty years ago.
AT length be knocked. aud the dear old,
wel.remembered voice called TO him in
the simple, old-fashioned way: "Coom
benz (come in). The widow rose at sight
of the stranger, aud courteously offered
him a chair. Thanking her in an assumed
voice, somewhat grunf, he sank down as
though wearej, saying that he was a way
| farer, strange 10 the country, and asking
the way to the next town. The twilight ia
vored him in his little ruse; he saw that
she did not recognize him, even as one she
had ever seer. But a1er giving him the
| information he desired, she asked him II
he was a Scotchman by birth.
"Yes, madame" he replied "but have
been away in foreign parts for many years.
doubt If my own mother would know me
now, though she was very fond OF me be-
fore went TO sea-"
"Ah, mon its little ye ken about NTH
ers, gin ye think sac. can tell ye there is
ma mortal memory like theirs" the widow
somewhat warmly replied; then added:
"And where hae ye been for sac long
time, that ye hae lost all the Scotch Grae
your speechH"
"In Inda-in Calcutta, madame"
"Ab, then, it's likely ye ken something
of my son, Mr.. Malcolm Anderson"
"AndeIson?" repeated the visitor, as tho
striving 10 remember. "There be many Of
that name in Calcutta; but Is your son q
rich merchant, and a man about my age
and size, with something such a figure
head?"
"My son is rich merchant" replied the
widow proudly, "but he is younger than
you by many long year, and, begging
your pardon, sir, far BONNER. He is tall
aud straight. wi hands and feet like las
sizes; he had brown, curling hair, sac thick
aud glossy, aud cheeks like the rose, and a
brow like the swan, and big blue cen, wi a
CLINT in them like the light of the evening
star Ma, ma, ye are no like my Malcolm,
though ye are guild enough body, dinna
doubt, and decent woman's son."
Here the masquerading merchant, con-
siderably taken down, made a movement
as though to leave, but the hospitable dame
stayed him saying "Ein ye hae Travelled
a the way from India, ye noun to be tired
and hungry. Bide bit, and eat and drink
VII u.s. Margery come down and let us
set on the supper"
The two women soon provided quite a
tempting repast, and they all three sat
down to II, Mrs. Anderson reverently ask
ing a blessing. But the merchant could
not eat. He was only hungry for his moth
er's kisses-only thirsty for her joyful rec
ognition yet he could not bring himself
to say 10 her 81 am your son." He asked
himself, half grleved, half amused, "Where
are the unerring, natural instincts have
read about. in poetry and noVelsf"