The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1877-06-12


the same moment, deep blush Grim
soned the young mans face, and he sat
as though detected in act of shame.
Martin took the loaf, and, gazing in
Caspar's face, a tear shone in the old
mans eye, and his voice trembled as he
spoke.
cit is 50, ladY God help you it is
sol
Forgive me, pray, forgive mel"
stammered Casper.
81 have another" said Martin; your
mother was playmate of Margaret, my
own bright girl-tended her in sickness
would, with the love of early girlhood,
watch her in death: L tell you, boy, L
have another" cried the old man with
vehemence; take it, and God increase
it to youl'
Never am not that sordid, selfish
wretch, to rob old age," cried Casper,
and he sought to reach the door.
1 tell you, boy, 1 have another" ex-
claimed Martin; " You hear another,''
and he placed himself before the youth.
"Where is it !" asked Caspar; I" make
me see it; and SO bitterly has the time
wrung us, that, for her sake, 1 Wilt
must despoil you"
The loaf is-'tis locked up-the key
is in my chamber, have wine-have
feasted twice to-day" said Martin; but
Caspar mournfully shook his head, and
hurriedly embracing the old man, at
tempted to depart &C You do not quit
me thus" cried Martin, holding the
youth. Heaven forgive mel knew
not that things had gone so hardly with
| you. Hear me; tomorrow have anew
supply-a friend AN old friend has prom
ised me. If, boy, you would see your
mother live, cast not away her life upon
an idle form. Caspar Brandt, in the
name of your dead father; whose spirit
at this moment fingers at this hearth,
share this with your fathers friend.r
Saying this, old Martin forced the loaf
into Caspar's hands ,and broke it. "Now,
boy, get your home," said Martin, seat
ing himself; " bear my good wishes to
your mother, and leave me to my sup
per-"
Again Caspar embraced the old man,
and swallowing halfcupof wine forced
upon him by the hospitable host = for
surely hospitality was in that broken
bread, that meagre vintage-hastened
from the house. Martin, for the first
time, tasted food that day, but he sat not
in solitude at his deserted fireside, for he
ate his crust, and drank his humble
draught, with the spirits of the dead
| gathered about his board; and the dry
bread became mama, and the wine
draught for saints.
Caspar hurried to distant quarter of
the city, where, at the commencement
of the siege, he had secured an asylum
for his sick mother, where day and night,
he had watched her sinking health. The
rent of three small houses, bequeathed
to her by her father, and frugally ap-
piled, had enabled the widow to support
herself and child; but since the war had
closed about the city, all trade had
ceased, debts were no longer paid, social
obligations no longer respected or ac-
knowledged 1t had been the chief care
of Caspar to disguise from his mother
the extent of the calamities that pressed
around them; and though deceived by
filial tenderness, she knew not half the
misery that threatened them-half the
horrors raging in the city-she read with
mothers eye the haggard story writ
ten in her sons face; 1t was plain that
he was sinking beneath the task of ad-
ministering to her comfort her repose.
He had, on the day on which our story
opens, been many hours from home,
and the widow with beating heart, and
with a thousand thoughts of underlined
danger busy in her brain, sat watching
the declining rays of spring sum-
Every sound smote her soul with disap
pointment, for it was not Caspar's foot
steps. There she sat, until suspense be-
came torture; until, with her over
wrought fancy, she had filled her cham
ber with phantoms of terror until she
was surrounded with host of fears.
Caspar CasparY" she shrieked and
sprang from her chair as the youth en-
tered the house.
"Mother /" exclaimed the boy, and in
moment he stood In the chamber, en-
bracing his parent. aa
"Now, God be praisedp ~ cried the
woman; God be thanked, and may
my doubts, the fears of widowed