The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1880-02-17

oSsnS Oo"PChootious SouC paIuOu iOf
such repentance as my soul had poured
forth.
Tha, third spring was peculiar some
how; the far off sky seemed to drop
down in nearer, bluer folds the sun wore
softer radiance; the trees, the grass,
the flowers, a diviner, tenierer beauty.
l rose every morning and looked out Of
my little window at the kiudling glories
OF the morn, with feeling of strange,
tremulous expectation. l seemed to feel
the shadow of some great event that
winged its fight above me-tle one
prayer Of my heart seemed about to be
answered.
One evening oh, that evening! A
May sky, soft and blue, hung over q
green, blossoming earth. The turtle
COG in the distant wood, and the robin
twittered to her young brood amid the
milky bloom OF the orchard. Gods love
shone in the golden brightness Of the
westward going sun. My child, little
Efie, sat on the doorstep talking TO hel
doll and watching the birds. All q,
once she clapped her dimpled hands and
bounded to her feet.
"Mamma," she cried gleefully, "psps
comin'-papa comm Effie 60 meet him.
The word stirred nay heart to its ut
most depths, ard dropping my work
followed her out Of the door. A maj
was coming up the garden path-his gar
ments tattered-his step slow and uncer
tain. A beggar, no doubt. / called L
Effie to come back, but she ran on,heed
less of my command. Toms little span
lei, that l had petted and taken care o
for his sake, darted from his kennel will
. peculiar cry, such as / had never heart
from it before. What did it all mean
My heart throbbed and my knees trem
bled. Little Effie ran on, holding on
both dimpled hands, her golden curl
blown about her rosy face. "How.de
do. papa? rs your Effie," she lisped q
she reached the mans feet. F.
He stopped. and raised her in his arm
and then his glance rested on me. Ani
such glance--sucb face! Pale, bag
gard, worn BY sorrow and suffering to
mere shadow. Toms ghost come bacl
from the grave. Not that--for my arm
grasped some tangible form. a
eaOh. Tom," 1 cried, SIS it your Speak
and tell me-"
"Yss, Lucy, it's me. I could bear
no longer. I'm dying, / belieye--and
couldn't go without seeing you and th
little one again"
/ My arms held him fast, tattered gal
ments and all; my kisses fell on his poo
pale face like rain. ] would never Ie
him 60 again.
.Tom. Tom," sobbed, getting dow
on my knees before him, "oh forgive me
forgive me! ! have suffered 80 much.
"Ips me that must ask forgiveness
Lucy" he said humbly; mot you'll va
wrong"
But stopped him short.
enc, Tom; my cross words did it all,
i / said "b1t for that We might have bee
happy together all these weary years."
i Mamma. mamma" interpesed Effit
Twisting herself around on her father
/ shoulder, "don't cry no more; papa
come back.
aYes, thank God; he had come bacl
poor and tsttered and hungry-like th
j prodigal-but my Tom, my husbant
nevertheless. would never speak eros
to him any more. @
i It is spring-time again. The swee
May sunlight steals in at my window q
j I write, and hear the turtle cooling i
i the distant wood. MY husband is ma
now, standing up proudly, his feet upo
i the grave Of old temptations. ! kno'
that Gods mercy is equal to HE justic'
and His love greater than either.