Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1877-06-13

IIov nor untirinp energy and deVotiVu,
i,o,. ,,nsal6sb love had contributed to MAKE
M, what 7 was. Toll was nothing TO her
# NV GOOD were the object l owen 0p "
ervt6ing,-and yet was ashamed Vi
her .I,, dotermin-
ed to use nodisguises, to call tnim IssIf ~
their right names, to deolare Tyson ~
myself the heartess puppy that was.
Bouve and his wealth and distlnet DISTINCTION
wore the closet-skeletons that tormehteu
me. | had promised to make myseli very
nrreeabIn to Georgia Bouve, who had duo'
he'd me- her knight for the day, and TINS
o ono was too cowardly to break
Or r9 10 think of without a sinking OF the
heart. ,c4 - tho
I've sent up little breakfast 10 the
mother ) said Mrs. MacCabe, aside, the
next morning. She's very ueii0"'0
little creature, it seems to me-
| assented, and sat down among my
companions, glad that | was alone MY
plans were all laid.
met nv mother with an aileclatioh
Of interest. but all the time her clear biue
ewes were searching my heart, and lelI
I'-
that it was so. 49,, ,;.no
want YOU to see everything, little
mother, | said gaily, so ! shall get you
seat where you can overlook me coLo nut
MES. You won't mind my not beng WIN
YOU, for you see, most OF the time suall
be engaged. If | had only known you
were coming, l would have made diner
ent arrangements.
DO lust what you think best with me-
dear boy. I wouldn't want to be IN the
way. o;1
Her voice was so mournful us she SAID
this there was something so unutteraoly
sad in her look, that both together, smole
me to the heart, but the time OF repent
ance was not yet. ,.-.,
found her seat, where the plalhneSs
not TO say the LONELINESS, of her azure,
would not lie particularly noticed, and
here | left her, oh, how long, how lonely
Two or three times she must have seen
me, viii the splenddly-attired girl hang
ing on my arm, and once Miss George
said
How that little old lady watches us!
What Il queer bonnet she wears!
How was | to know that she meant my
Door mother if did not choose TO under
stand? There were more queer oonnels
in the window than one. Don't think me
quite heartless. Once in while, man
AGED TO give both bow and smile. | had
arranged with Mrs. MacCabe to take my
mother home to dinner. was engaged
ut Bouve's spread, to which | sat down
with Miss Bouve.
why didn't you tell me your mother
was in townp asked Bouve, as he found
second in which to whisper the question.
4 She ought to be here
What is your mother really hereY
asked Miss Georgia. You must be sure
to introduce me-
And they had found it out! What would
they think of me that had not mentioned
itP never felt so like prig and Grim
inal, rolled in one, as | did that day. My
mother did not come back. l only saw
her once, late in the evening. | fancy she
did not sleep much that night, and wept,
and PRAYED, and suffered, as she thought
of this return for all her sacrifices.
L shall leave you very early, DEAR she
said, but it need not disturb you. Mrs.
MacCabe has spoken for carriage
But mother, you're not going so soon,
| stammered. | want to show you the
sights.
I've seen all l care TO, my son, and l
must Co. she made reply, hut she looked
so panied, so crushed! went with her to
the depot. l came home feeling-I can
not tell you how | felt.
Do,Yo nnn,o navt flnv- bnI a littloI
talk with your mother, he said, 'and |
have come to see her. She is so like my
own dear dead mother!'
Then learned, for the first time, that
he was an adopted son. That his own
mother had been sweet, country home
body and that he worshlpped her memorys
Oh, how much | had lost! My punish
ment was even then on its way.
So ran the telegram:
/ 'DEAR Boy II am not feeling very well Can
| you come home Tor day or two!
MOTHER
Such tide of emotions as swept over
my heart Love, gratitude, remorse, but
over and above all love- | will make it
all up to her, promised myself, as | flew
toward her on the wings Of steam. | will
never, never be ashamed of her again.
took tie little path through the wood
There was the house; the door stood open,
and stranger looked forth. All the
blinds were closed
Mother! | gasped, for | had run almost
every step of the way, urged on by an un
defined fear. There was no answer only
Il look of pity-a look that could not be
mistaken. My ingratitude had killed
her.
When? was all could say.
This morning at daylight 1t was
heart disease
Too late, too late! If you knew the
meaning those words have for me! For
months | heard them everywhere, in ev-
erythng-too late, too late! No chance
for reparation-to be forgiven-to receive
one last blessed look-to take one last
blessed kiss!
When saw her, there was sweet peace
on the face that, through my misdoing,
had been so sad and panied. All, Ned, be
thankful you have mother to come.
Don't make for yourself pillow of thorns,
us | have done. Your mother against the
world. What has the world done for you
What has she not done for you? And,
Ned, let me love her little rs know
SHALL for the sake of my dead mother"
Ned turned away to study the lesson.
never to be unlearned, and his friend, with
deep sigh, left the room. -Youh's Com