Ellsworth American., 1877-06-28
MiseeIIaneous. g
Starlight ana Lamplight.

|
lad, SIR James, Is my Philip. aud III not
sav but what I'm proud of him"
Sir James put on his spectaces. and took
the copy-book from the child's hands. to
examine IL more closely. Presently he
put Ii down. really surprised. and turned
to Dame Leigh, who was standidg quietly
near, with her hand on Philips head at
is wonderfully good, Mrs. Leigh" he said
"and his father no scholar either. Why,
the lad will be a genius"
Mrs. Leigh blushed and courtesied,
| smoothing the book out between her work
worn hands. and Sir James took his spec
tacles of carefully again. and put them ia
his pocket; hut little Philip. shaking him.
| sell free from his mothers hand. did a
strange thing; he threw himself down
| across the table, and tore the copy book
across and across, sobbing out, Il won't
] be genius | won't write copies any more
| all my life, because don't want TO be a
genius" Sir James was startled; he was
| unused 10 children. and such foolish CRYING
| and foolish tempers annoyed him. He said
good-by 10 Mrs. Leigh. aud went out into
the harvest ields, leaving the torn copy
book and Philip and his mother to fight the
| battle out among them.
| There was not much fight. however.
| Mr>. Leigh was a window. and Philip was
her ouy son; 50. though she scolded him
] for h- temper, aud especially tor showing
/ il before old sir James. she foTgave him
after a while. and Philip sat down sadder
! aud wiser boy to supper. but FOR all
/ that he kept his word The lessons which
/ had been his delight be went about In a
/ slovcnly- ungracou> name. that vexed
| his mother, heart; aud from being bright
I aud quick with hi, ta>Ns. he took To being
- sl"w and plodding that. ~ the months
! ,,s fI..f fa.. I..i 4
! the head of the class grew to be a mere
/ faded memory 10 the other scholars; for
/ just as his mother. pleased will Sir Iume>'s
words. had made up her mind that her sou
| should be a scholar and a genius, 80 Phil
/ IL. IA his ignorant heart, had determined
| to the contrary and 80. with a careless
hand, he laid the fr,t light foundation OF
the invisible wall that lay between them
! for whlle.
Mrs Leigh. or Dame Leigh a, they
/ called trr ia her own village. wa. the pret-
! ~ young ldo~ OF sir James Garnet's head
| groom. Her short married life had been
one dream OF happiness from the moment
when. standing on the village bridge. Phil
! ip had asked her to be- his wife, until She
! awakened one autumn morning to the re-
aliiy oi terrible sorrow, which was iu
1 leave it, Impress on her whole aiter-ifc.
| For they brought Philip home through the
| golden broom on the common, stiil aud
White and pale, with q little dark mark on
his left temple. ths, his wife covered with
her hand when she knelt down andlaid her
~ -. - "e"tu,t hi curly head; Phil
[ ~, she said fh'"P, = -.
| deadl"
No. not dead, but worse than dead, a.
! Dame Leigh used TO sob sometimes .as she
! kuelt by the window. and iooNcJ out with
| gli,tenng eyes on the harvest field that
/ was bringing IN such rich rcturn>-the
seeds that Philip had planted In the spring
/ time Ia his leisure hours. but that other
| hands would reap; for Philip, wandering
/ helpiessiy from room 10 room, with that
/ black mark above his temple, was walking
/ toward the Valley OF the shadow, through
u dark. still path, in which he recognized
: nothing OF his former life-not even the
sweet face and tender touch OF his young
wife For Philip had lost his reason-was
! innocent as they call II, in simple
beautiful manner, in some parts OF Ireland;
and for eight months he walked among
/ them al Eversham. in Il world oi his own,
and then the end came.
How he had managed 70 be kicked by
the two-y Wr- Old, in whose box they found
( him lying senseless. no one could imagine,
Tor "A better or safer man with horses than
Philip Leigh was not TO be found on the
countryside; but when the end came, the
/ exclamation came with II
He had been sitting broodug over the
fire all one summer afternoon, with his
head in his hands. and his wife Phebe
knitting oI "a stool before him. when sud
denly he cried out. "Phpbe, Phpbe.' and
started up with both hands stretched out
toward her a. II fOi help.
Phube rose hastily aud put her knitting
s,ide. answering his cry with tender loving
woris and compassionate tears.
do you know me, Philip she said.
philip. my dear, look At me, and remem-
brr me once.
SO she PRAYED. kueeling straight before
him, with little Philip cliugiug 10 her dress,
and the summer sunset creeping toward
them across the shining red of the kitchen
floor. and Philip, lifting his dim eyes drew
down her iace and kissed 1.-THE first time
for eight months
So her prayer was answered.
He grew quiet again then, and presently
she persuaded him TO 90 10 bed, aud sat
beside him holding his hand until he fell
asleep. When he awoke it WAS midnight,
aud the lamp had burned low but Phoebe
was still still sitting by his side. He lay
quiet for while, and then he began to
talk in a low. hurried tone, and TO move
rc,tlessly abont. Take care" Phpbe
heard him say presently. in louder voice
NOT there. Philip-not near his heels;
he's a rough young horse" Then, with
a long sigh, That's right my lad, and safe,
0p near fatber-stand back, Philip. All
my Cod
He dashed the bedclothes aside with that
wild cry. aud started up; but Phgbe, with
the instinct of her love. was before him.
stop. "hiipl" she cried; is it the boy you
mean! He's safe. thank God =
Thank Cod" breathed Philip. and he
let her lay him down again. and put her
cool hand on his forehead, smoothing back
the curls that had grown so gray since the
spring and then they We're both still.
Whether she Tell asleep. ofwhether she
was only "daZed' by grief land pain and
WEAKNESS, Phpbe could never tell; but
when they reused her in the morning, and
her eyes turned instinctivey to where lay
Philips restless head. she saw that he had
'.entered into life" She was tended very
gently and lovingly by the many who
grieved for her in the village. but she told
no one for a long time OF all she mad
learned on that last night of Philips lite
only to ha il was quite cieary and,
Y possible, she loved little Philip more al
ter she realized at what terrible price his
life had been saved for her.
SO little Philip grew up into boyhood in
the prejudiced light of his mothers
eyes-grew into health and strength and
beauty-''but no book scholar" as Mrs.
Leigh used TO say TO the Squire, shaking
her head sorrowfully. when he was giving
the boy an easy examination into his tasks;
"but a very inn for mischief" she would
think. looking fondly after the strong young
figure as ne went running over the COM
mon. Yet he ives clever with his fingers
for all that. aud ''likely" boy, the farmers
said. who saw him standing for a while
sometimes. with his hands in his pockets
watching the ploughs and the teams to
work. When he put carved rockers at
his mothers armchair, the neighbors,
coming in to look and to admire. said she
ought TO be proud of such handy lad for
a son; but Mrs. Leish, thinking of the
money she had lald by years ago to send
him to college. thinking of the way his
face had lishtened half an hour before.
when he put his lesson-books away, said