The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1878-10-17
BE THAT ONE.


BE THAT ONE.
In one OF the quiet towns of New
Hampshire, group of tine-lookins
people were gathered on a vine-embow
cred porch of modest little house one
bright autumn evening, bidding good
bye to the eldest son, Il tail, handsome
young man of eighteen, who was Just
starting for Boston to take position
as salesman in large wholesale house
OF which his uncle was one of the pro.
prietors. The faces of the family group
looked bright and happy. with one ex.
ception. They were ali saying pleas.
ant things to Charley, the favorite oil
the family, and joking him in various
ways.
The father said, 'Small wages al
first, my boy, but before many years
We shall expect to see you one of Bos-
tons grand aristocrats, doing a large
business, living in fine mansion on
one of the avenues, and having plenty
of money for yourself and few thou.
sands to send back to the old folks"
Then Jennie. only two years younger
than Charlie, who had depended upon
him for her escort, and who was as de-
voted to him as he had been to her,
threw her arm about his neck, and,
kissing him. said, although her tears
seemed yelling up even then, I'm
not going to cry, Charley, but it is so
much harder to let you go than l
thought it would be. l must say Hsat.
anyway. but III keep my promise, and
look bright until after you are gone. 3"
Charley whispered some appreciative
word in her ear, and then said aloud,
:. You remember what told you, Jen-
ME, that as soon as got little ahead
l should send you the money to come
down and make me visit, and, as I'm
determined to do my best, it may be
but few months before l greet YOU at
the Hub and show you all the wonder
full sights there
Just then little Ruth came bounding
up the gravel walk, with her hands full
of flowers, looking herself, with her
beautiful blue eyes, and light, flaxen
hair flying in the wind, the sweetest
bud of them all. "Now," she said, as
she stood in front of Charley, I've
just brought these for my own dear
brother, and they are all from Ruth s
little garden, and you must take them
away off on the cars with you. And
here is one," picking up white rose
bud and holding it in her dainty little
fingers, while with her head tipped on
one side, and roguish look in her
laughing eye, she said, "that you can
where in your button hole when you 90
to see the young ladies'
Tut, tut said her brother, "none
of that now. What do you know about
my going to see young ladies'? You're
getting along too fast for a four-year-
DID,
So they chatted merrily together as
they sat in their pretty wicker-chairs,
waiting for the stage-coach which
would carry Charley to the railroad
station, fifteen miles distant. Mrs.
McAlpine had been sitting with them,
but her heart had been slowly coming
up into her throat, rs she looked at her
boy. the pride of her heart, and began
to realize that this first parting would
be no doubt the beginning of the break
ing up of the family, and she could not
but question within herself, "Will my
boy ever be my boy to me again: as
trusting, as loving, as near to me as
now?"
While she thought thus, the tears
came into her eyes, and she quickly re-
tired unobserved into the sitting-room.
The offer from the Boston uncle had
seemed fine opening for their son,
but the thought of his going into the
city to live, to be beset with tempta-
tons of every kind, had kept Mrs. Nc
Alpine awake for many nights, and had
been the cause of many sincere and
heartfelt prayers.
Mrs. McAlpine was Bostonian by
birth, and an accomplished, elegant
woman, whose circle of friends there
was of the highest in social ranks, and
yet who, unlike her, were not religious,
but worldly, fashionable people. When
she was quite young she had come to
Claremont to pay visit to her grand
mother, and while there had met Mr.. Nc
Alpine, quiet, refined, Christian gen.
tleman, several years her senior, who
two years after this visit became her
husband and brought her to this little
town to live. But she had lived long
enough in the city, and had in her ia
Their s family seen enough of the results
of city life in the dissipated characters
of her two brothers. to appreciate fully
what q conflict her boy must pass through
if he escaped unscathed. She felt she
must say few words more to him
alone, and so, stepping to the porch,
she called him into the sitting-room and
closed the door.
She sat down near him, and, in her
quiet way, in low, sweet voice opened
her heart to him. She said:
Charley, you have been . dear,
good son to me, and have generally
meant, think, to do about right. and,
so far as know, you have no bad hab-
its. But you are not a Christian, and
l cannot but feel anxious about YOU. as
you start off alone to live where you
will have no mother or father to coun-
sci with, and where you will be obliged
constantly to choose between two paths,
the right and the wrong one, and where
the temptations will be strong to choose
the latter. You have noticed, some.
times, Charley. that these small trees
that stand near the house, and are pro.
tected by it, often weather through q
severe, stormy winter, while many Of
the larger ones which stand off alone,
looking, in their strength, as if they
were equal to any combat with the ele.
ments, are manned and shattered, il
not wholly ruined. by the fierce winds
that blow. 1t seems to me that young
men are much like these trees. Those
who stand by themselves, exposed to
the blasts of temptation, who look