Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1879-12-21

"Well, sir, 1 never get the chance.
That happened on Christmas, too. Lizzy
was baby then. Yes, that mornin' I
found Christmas present from Bill
he'd spent all his earnings for three
months, Ben told me, to get it-but
there wasn't no Bill" the voice falIered.
'He left a letter-and IN that he said
good by-to all of us, even to old Susie,
out in the stable. You'll excuse me.''
ane the horny hands fumbled for hand
kerchief; II thought I could tell the
story-but some-how-I-can't."
Mother Rolf had turned her face away
to hide the two slow tears falling from
eyes that had often wept. Lizzie was
looking out of the window, perhaps at
the moon.
The minister sat like a statue, arms
folded on his breast, lips fastened togeth-
er, eyes fixed as if upon some vision
that troubled him, but the folded arms
heaved up with the deep chest breathing.
''There, I'm through now" said the old
man, hoarseiy, heavlng great sigh
"there amt much more to tell. We'd "a
given every thing we owned that day to
have his blue eyes back. Turkey went
for nothing. Benny was broken hearted.
There, there, don't cry, old lady! You
are home this time, and we've got good
| company to help make merry.
"Dut there's little more to tell, young
man. must clear it all up now, and
don't think harder nor you can help OF
me. The Lords forgive me, trust. Bill
wrote me about a year after, from the
West; said he was doing we'll. I dare
say twas good enough letter, but some
thin IN it riled my anger, and, though I
meant to forgive him, thought of how
I might make him more sorry: I wrote
him that his mother was dead twas aw-
tul, wasn't it? I'll never, never forgive
myself for that Don't try to stop me,
old lady. I'll own up the whole, now
that I've begun. I don't wonder you
look at me, sir. I did think he'd write
me another letter; and when + wrote to
him again, stranger sent me word that
he'd gone-and there was what my cruel
| will did for me. I was mad; my mind
must have been crazed. But 1t humbled
me, sir; and who knows but God may re-
| quire that poor boys soul at my hands?
l not only took his home, but his mother
from him.
II think I'll go up-stairs,' said the
minister, rising abruptly.
."Ah, sir, you're sorry you come to stay
with one who has done so wrong!"
'No, no; don't think Of it! Here is my
hand" and he hurried from the room.
The little family dispersed in silence.
A bright glorious sunshine and blue
sky greeted Christmas Day. The strang-
| err came down stairs all smiles
Happy Christmas, sir" cried the
farmer; Happy Christmas, old lady! Just
please to step this way. Here's ou1
stockings that the child put up Why,
Lizzie, Lizzie, bless your heart, aoe'7't
nothing but children, after all! There's
yours and mine, and one for the minis
ter. How fat they are haven't laughed
so hearty tor twenty Christmas morn
ings;'' and he proceeded to pull out the
contents.
"Doughnuts, old and-here-
why, Lord help me, here's pocket-book
and a fifty dollar bill in it! And here's a
letter! Where's my specks? You read it,
mother"
"Dear father" began.the old lady.
"Oh, it's from our daughter in New
from-.and'- Suddenly he turned pale,
as the first few lines were read.
"Wbat, from Bill-my boy! Our boy,
old lady--that good for-nothing blessed
rascal! No mother'-he came forward
with shaking hands-*'iu can't be-good
news, and on Christmas Day! Sent the
money, did he? Here's handkerchief,
wife; wipe your spectacles, quick. I
don't wonder you cry. I'm crying N.Y.
self, I believe. Will spend Christmas
with us?' I can't believe it. I must be
dreaming. When can he come? There's
an express at four this afternoon. Bill
gone-dead-buried, years ago-coming
if I knew-what"-
Giles here now!" exclaimed the stran-
ger, in broken voice, crying and laugh
ing, while with glad shout LIZZIE ran in
to his open arms.
"Don't hug him to death!'' exclaimed
the old farmer, the tears chasing each
other over his bronzed cheeks; and then
liz wv ACIO d1uSC Ills uCdIt dS IL
he would never let him go. Then he put
him at arms length.
''Stand off, my son, and let me feast
my old eyes. Yes, yes, there's mothers
face-not bit OF mine, and I'm glad of
it, for ali the heart there was between us
was hers tor long years.
"And so you're minister, my boy-a
minister! the son of my old age servant
of God. Now can depart in peace.
And you forgive me, my boy, my son,
my only SOM" and he fell on his Shout
er, weeping.
"Freely, father. God who knows how
hard it has been to keep my silence till
the hour came, knows I forgive you.
Through His mercy found friends, and
many Of these years have been far away,
for the kind man who took me into his
family lived abroad much of his time.
You know thought my mothor was
dead, that your heart was steeled against
me, that
''For the sake Of Heaven, my dear, boy,
let us talk no more of that. You are
here; my old heart is satisfied"
I wish I could transcribe the quaint
doings and sayings of that day. But all
the words one has at command, all the
fine writing, all the fine thoughts, could
not convey an adequate conception of
the happiness that reigned in that house
hold brighter than Kings palace that
glorious Christmas Day.
esWants."
"A pencil that is always in the first