Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1880-03-02

aNOiueu tOr years, Iof tney stlIIeu d uleti
ory of his lost youth. Now there Aashet
upon him memory of his own room
years ago. with lilies valley on Ia
BILE, bracket and wall, and their subtle
fragrance recalled the perfume of flowers
worn in a woman's hair above the sweet.
est face he ever knew.
The door opened. and lady entered
followed by two boys and girl.
IL am glad to see thee" was the gra.
cious reception given this ungracious
man. Thou art our neighbor; | am
told. Wilt thou be seated."
John Ashust was almost powerless to
speak. Years ago this quaint Quaker
speech had thrilled him as no other speech
had done. and he had dreamed Of life
time with such music in his ears.
81 beg your pardon" he said in con-
fused, hesitating way; II have brought
your boy home"
mot much exclaimed one of the
boys in the rear of the beautiful woman,
for John Ashurst said to himself that she
was beautiful.
The mother gave the boy look Of
smiling reproof, as she said, Thou hast
made mistake, have only these three
chi dren and their baby brother, who is
asleep"
Told him | didn't b'long here, but he
wouldn't b'lieve me-" explained the boy.
sullenly.
II beg your pardon said John Ash
urst, with deep humility; 81 am afraid |
have wronged your boys-and you" he
added. still more humbly, thinking Of the
note he had indited that morning.
"Do not mention it, said the lady,
politely. "I am fearful we have dis
turbed thee. Thon art aware we have
had great grief. have allowed my chill
dren to have whatever pets they choose,
and amuse themselves in every innocent
way that their minds nigh, be diverted
from their great loss"
John Ashurst's face was sympathetic.
and troubled too. for he was thinking Of
his note. "A heartless thing, under the
circumstances" he said to himself. Had
Fred forgotten to deliver it That were
a lucky slip of the memory, ne thought.
The sweet.faced, sweet voiced Quaker
ess continued: MY baby has been very
i'll. have been Obliged to keep on this
side OF the house. as it is cooler. When
he is better l shall change my nursery.
John Ashurst's face fell. After all. she
had read his note. Il beg your pardon,
ne said, with real trouble in his tone. Il
did not know your baby was i'll. | beg
you will not change your nursery on my
account | was mistaken about the boy
turning 10 see that the urchin had made
his escape. II may have made other
mistakes. Perhaps they were not your
chickens. 1t may have been some other
persons dog.
Chickens. Dog:" asked the lady in
puzzled way. Il do no, understand
John Ashurst's face Frightened. She
had not received his note. 1T does not
signify" he replied carelessly. II thought
YOU might have heard complaints about
your chickens or dog-from-my cook
or my nephew-or somebody, he said
desperately.
Thy cook has been extremely kind, !"
answered the lady. I'VE were obliged
to borrow some brandy one day when the
baby was very i'll. and We could not get
at ours in the confusion Of moving. Thy
nephew has fairly won the heart Of my
Boys by teaching them TO shoot arrows,
and Lucy-this little girl-and thy ncph
ew are grea, friends. Ny children were
puzzled about the sign board in thy hedge,
bu, thy nephew told them it was to warn
off tramps."
He is a good boy. Fred is an uncom-
monty good young man" exclaimed John
Ashurst, fervently. His failure to de-
liver tina, note was mark OF superior
Judgment he thought.
The servant entered. Il hope you
will excuse me" she added, addressing
her mistress; "but note was left this
morning, and as YOU were getting the
baby to sleep did not disturb you
John Ashurst stepped forward eagerly.
IL am the writer of this note" he said,
extending his hand. 'As have come
myself. it will be quite unnecessary for
YOU to read it. can do my errand with
out taxing your patience to read my il
legible writing
Certainly" answered the unsuspect.
ing Quakeress. Thou art very kind to
trouble thyself about us
John Ashurst thought Of himself,
"Hypocrite," and yet he was glad, glad
as if he had seen an enemy in the act of
applying a match to gunpowder, and sud.
denly. he found himself in possession OF
match and gunpowder. What should he
say, as the Quakeress was looking in an
expectant way, as he had not told his
erraEd
"We have great many cherries. Send
for them whenever you like, he said
as awkwardly as a school boy.
1--WE are grateful for thy kindness,
replied the Quakeress, pleasantly.
do not change your nursery on my
account pleaded John Ashurst, his
mind reverting to that dreadful note
"I.et the children come over when they
please, Fred will amuse the boys, and
the cook will be pleased to spoil the girl. ="
John Ashurst went home with light
heart. He clutched the note as if it had
been a prize. ITO think" he said to
himself, '.how near l came to wounding