Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1881-12-24
"Don't trv to keen me any longer

me not to interfere with his affairs. l
shall come home some time, mother. to
see you," he said, jumping up and
throwing his arms about her neck in a
fearful embrace; "but father does not
love me. heard him tell the man that
bought Kitty that boys were more
plague than profit. Tomorrow father
will be away all day. shall do the
go. Tonight will pack my valise; it
will hold all shall need" and Frank
Raymond busted himself, while Deacon
Raymond was sleeping the sleep OF the
just that night, in packing up the few
articles that belonged to him.
Few they were, too. for Deacon Ray
mond did not think boys room nesded
any thing ornamental or attractive. No
pictures adorned the walls of Frank
Raymond's room. There was no we'll
| filed bookcase to employ and crafty
his leisure hours.
No carpet on the floor; "boys did not
need such things" he told his wife
when she ventured plea for a carpet
and few pictures to make the room
more cheerful and homelike.
Frank had passionate love for the
beautiful in nature and art-a love that
had been dwarfed and crushed all his
| life.
Mrs. Raymond was very fond of
flowers. A neighbor kindly offered cut
tings and roots from her own yard, and
one fine spring morning, when Deacon
Raymond had started for town, Frank
set to work in high spirits. He spaded
L.
frontyard, set out his roots and cuttings
ana sowed some seed.
At noon his father returned, and see
ing The freshly stirred earth, inquired
into the matter; then pulled up the
choice roots that had been set and
tossed them over the fence, because
they would interfere with the growth
of the grass.
There was really no chance for Frank
Raymond in the home that his father
made so uncomfortable.
The morning dawned-a clear, crisp
morning in October.
The trees were throwing down their
brilliant hued leaves over the path. The
yard was full of them.
Deacon Raymond utilized autumn
leaves by having them raked up and
mixed with loan for fertilizing his
land.
If he had found spray of those gor-
geous leaves fastened upon the cheer
less wall of his sons room he would
have tossed it contemptuously from the
window.
Frank Raymond hung about his faith
er's wagon regretfully that morning.
His heart ached he was hungry for q
kind word If it had only been spoken
it would have turned the scale. But at
last his father noticed his lettering, and
in his imperative way ordered him 10
go to his work and quit idllng.
Frank walked of, and MIR. Raymond
drove away.
After his father had gone, Frank fin
ished the tasks that had been given him,
and then went to the house to bid his
mother goodbye.
His intention was to go to Weston-a
manufacturing town a hundred miles
away.
Mrs. Raymond had written letter of
Introduction to a manufacturer there,
whose wife was her friend, briefly ex-
planning that her son wanted work, and
asking him, if possible, to give him
chance.
A sad afternoon was that to Mrs.
Raymond. She had gwen Frank all
the money she possessed-a few dollars
and he had gone, after fearful part
ing and promise given to write when
he had found work.
Frank Raymond walked sadly, but
| resolutely down the road
Once he turned about and looked
yearniugly toward the house.
His mother was standing by the door.
He waved his hand; then, dashing the
tears from his eyes, walked quickly on
ward, and was soon out of sight.
If the infexible laws of justice were
tempered by gentleness and forbearance
if homes were made as attractive as
are the gilded haunts of vice and crime
our prisons and reformatory institu-
tions would be less crowded.
Mrs. Raymond dreaded her husbands
return, for she knew how angry he
would be, and though it might be a
righteous indignation, still he was a
very human deacon after all, and the
contingency one that ne would not be
prepared to meet.
When Deacon Raymond returned at
dusk, and called out in his quick, i'm
patient way for Frank to come and take
the horse, Mrs. Raymond responded to
the summons, telling him that Frank
had left home.
The deacon looked unutterable things,
and uttered few words that had better
been left unsaid
"Ungrateful, good for nothing boy p
he exclaimed, at last, after he had ex-
hausted all the expletives that dea-
cons vocabulary may lawfully contain,
"after all my toiliug and saving to lay
up money for him -
If little of it had been judiciously
used instead of being laid up, his wife
thought the trouble might have been
averted, but she considerably left the
opinion unexpressed.
After that night Deacon Raymond
rarely mentioned Franks name, but he
grew more morose, if possible, than be-
fore.
When Christmas Day came, ond he
and his wife sat down to their bountiful
meal, the deacon did not enter into the
enjoyment of those comforts with his
accustomed zest.
Frank was not there; he did not give
that reason, however, for his poor ap
petite, but guessed he was getting dys.
peptic.