The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1879-12-24

WONDER you SNAKE your head but they
say an open. confession 81 good. Tor the
soul. Mother, dear heart, she pleaded
and prayed, but / vowed I'd bbat him
again for that bit Of lnsolence. Il
''Well, sir, never g~t the chance.
That happened on Christmas, too. Lizzy
was baby then. Yes, that mornin'
found . Christmas present from Bill
he'd spent all his earnings for three
months, Ben told me, to yet it--but
there wasn't no Bill" the voice fuliered.
| "He left Q letter-and IN that he said
good by--to all of us, even to old Susie.
out in the stable. You'll excuse me.
anc the horny hands fumbled for a hand
kerchief; u thought / could tell the
story-but some how --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 ut
the moon.
The minister sat like statue, arms
folded on his breast, Ii ps 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, hoarsely, heavlng q great sigh;
s'there amt much more to tell. We'd, a.
given every thing VIC owned that day to
have his blue eyes back. Turkey went
for nothing. Benny was broken hearted.
There, there, don'tcry. old lady! You
are home this time, and we've got good
company to help make merry.
"Dut theresa little more to tell, young
man. ! must clearit all up now, and
don't think harder nor you can help of
me. The Lords forgive me, trust. Bill
wrote me about year after. from, the
West; said he was doing we'll I dare
say twas a good enough letter, but some
thin IN it riled my anger, and, though
meant to forgive him, l thought of how
| might make him more sorry. I wrote
him that his mother was dead = twas aw-
Jul, 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. 1 don't wonder you
look at me, sir. did think he'd write
me another letter; and when I wrote to
him again, a 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 rc-
quire that poor boys soul at my hands?
l not only took his home, but his mother
from him.
II think I'll go upstairs" 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 gstrang-
er came down stairs all smiles.
'Happy Christmas, sir!" cried the
farmer; Happy Christmas, old lady! Just
please to step this way. Here's our
stockings that the child put up. Why,
Lizzie, LIZZIE, bless your heart, qos're
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 lady-and-here-
why, Lord help me, here's a pocket-book!
andea fifty dollar bill in it! And here's
letter! Where's my specks? You read it,
mother"
"Dear father" begansthe old lady.
ooh, it's from our daughter in New
York! There's where the money. come
trom-.and"- Suddenly he turned pale,
as the first few lines were read.
"What, from Bill-my boy! Our boy,
old lady--that good for-nothing blessed
rascal! No mother'-he came forward
with shaking hands Sit can't he-good
news, and on Christmas Day! Sent the
money, did he2 Here's handkerchief,
wife; wipe your spectacles, quick.
don't wonder you cry. I'm crying my
self, believe. Will spend Christmas
with us?" can't believe it. I must be
dreaming. When can he Gomez There's
An express at four this afternoon. Bill.
gone-dead-bdried, years ago-coming
If 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.
"Dont hug him to death1" exclaimed
the old farmer, the tears chasing each
other over his bronzed cheeks; and then
he too held him against his heart as if
he would never let him go. Then he put
him at arms length.
''Stand of, my son, and let me feast
my old eyes. Yes, yes, there's mothers
face-not a bit OF mine, and I'm glad of
it, for all the heart there was between us
was hers for 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 knowI 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 1 could transcribe the quaint
doings and sayings of that day. But all