The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1880-07-16
vould perhaps brush his cheeks with

WOulQ perhaps OfuSn his cheeks Will
their velvety caresses.
He sprung to his feet to seek her, when
the door softly opened, and turning he
saw--could it be a dream conjured up by
his restless fancies of the night before
his mother? Close behind her was the
wholly wondering, half-apologetic face
of his butler. It took him full minute
to realize it was no dream, and then,
honor to his mahood, a sudden, over
whelming tenderness swept away all else,
and with glad cry of s'Motherw he
clasped her to his heart.
When she had grown calmer and more
at rest, beginning to look around and
wonder and admire, a little feeling of ir-
ritation began to grow at his heart
Why had she come? Had he not made
all comfortable for her at home? Here
she would be constrained, unnatural.
And Violet. He could picture the as
tonished look which would creep into
her eyes when he said to her, 3'This is
my mother;" nay, more, the naughty
curve which would gather about her
mouth, so rich and ripe, and sweet. So
the question at his heart found words,
and he scarcely himself knew the innate
irritation they betrayed.
''M Mother, why did you not let me know
you were coming ?"
ST meant to surprise you, my boy, %
she answered fondly. "Can it be that I
have done wrong %
''No, no." he hastily replied. "Come,
you must eat and go to bed. You need
q rest"
But, long after he had hidden her good
night, he sat and thought.
!. His mother had come to make her
home with him. This was clear. IF he
told her he willed it otherwise, she
would obey him.
For time he planned it outflow he
adapted to her needs; and then Violet
need never know of the plain, humble
little woman-who had not shamed to
toll with her own hands that his might
be the hands of gentleman.
Oh, shame on him Gould he ever
wash them clean, even of the thought?
No, Violet should know the truth He
could bear the scorn now in her eyes and
in her voice, as she would question him
how dared he look up to her, but his
mother should share his home and heart
to the end.
It was too late now to visit Violet to-
night, but he went upstairs, and, softly
turning the knob of the door of the
room where his mother slept, he noise
lessly approached the bed, and, bending
down, touched his liDs to the old with
cred forehead reverently.
She started up, with glad sob of joy.
'.My boy! my boy! who thought was
not glad to see his mother"
He quieted her at last, wondering why
his own heart felt SO light, and she fell
asleep with his hand tightly clasped in
hers.
'sYou did not come last night" said
his betrothed, when, next morning, he
stood in her presence.
mo, Violet" he answered, "but I
come to-day to tell you how unworthy I
am of your love. Last night my mother
came to me. Nay, do not start. It was
no visitant from the spirit land, but an
actual reality. have never told you of
my mother. Think of tia man SO
blessed, and yet dumb! All her life she
toiled with poverty-for whose sake
think you? Her son's-that she might
make him gentleman. God prospered
him, and enabled him to take all the
he thought he had done his duty. He
fed the body but let her heart starve.
Last night, in the desperation of her
ment-oh, bitter humiiiation!-my heart
rebelled! Think of it, Violet-the cruel,
unnatural pride which would bring into
a mans cheek blush for the woman
who bore him! thought of you, with
your pretty, dainty ways, side by side
with her plain and homley ones. I knew
the two never could be reconciled, and
so, Violet, have come to ask you to for
get me. My heart, my home, are my
mothers, henceforth and forever.
Had the man some lingering hope
that the girl before him would refuse to
sacrifice Certainly an added look of
suffering grew into his eyes as she an
swered nothing, only laid her hand in
his moment, as if in farewell.
His visits seemed very long, very
weary, all that day, but, as he crossed
the home threshold at nightfall, he
smoothed the frown from his brow as he
remarked:
s'She must suspect nothing"
He would find her, he knew, in his
study. As he softly opened the door he
anticipated her cry of, Ny boy!'' as she
trembling1y rose to greet him; but ah
he had not anticipated the picture which
met his gaze.
His mother was sitting, indeed, in the
arm -cna1r Dy tne nfe, Dut at ner ieet, ner
head resting in her lap, while the old
fingers earelessly stroked the luxuriant
chestnut hair, was another figure, which
rose, instead, to welcome him:
Bernard, . the sweet voice whispered
in his ear, 81 lost my mother when was
baby. It has been so sweet to find one
again You said, 'Henceforth your
home and heart was hers Oh my
love, may we not share the boon p
JUST LIKE YoUNasTER.-An event
occurred at the Broadway Church, Nor
wich. before the morning service, one
Sunday, which greatly amused the con-
gregation. The people had assembled
and were awaiting the arrival of their
pastor, when stray two-and-a-half year
old child, neatly attired, with a mans
hat on his head and mop in his hand,
walked up the Iroad aisle and took a
seat in the empty pew of q well known
citizen. After sitting while, it took to
ity feet and pattsred down the aisle,
waving the mop, and halted in front of
the pulpit to view the congregation.
Then it passed up the side aisle and was
invited into pew, where it kept its seat
until the janitor called for and restored
it to its frightened parents. 1t had