Clearfield Republican. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1851-1937, 1881-11-30

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There had been long days of Watching
and suspense under tho shadow of
death, aud still longer days Of hushed
silence aud aching loneliness coffin.
ed face, and open grave And darker,
sadder, still was the burden OF AN un.
spoken grief, the harder, perhaps to
bear for the very silence in which |
they hid this bitter memory Of clash.
ing wills, Of stern authority on the one
side and angry defiance on the other,
and Young lite driited out Of sight
amid the worlds fierce breakers. A
memory that bowed Anse Places
proud head, and threatened the thick
lines of gray amid bis wile's dark haIr
But tonight her words had opened the
door of the sepulohre, and there rose
before him the visions of other Thanks.
giving Days, when merry children had
made music in the old house, and their
glad spirits broke over for the day the
iormality Of their set rules, and set the
low rooms ringing, Ansel Place was
not an emotional man Lie had beon
hard aud wearing, the poetry and
romance had long since faded IRON it,
but tonight, with the November rain
beating on the pane, tide OF tender
ness welled up in his heart he saw
Two young parents bending over tho
cradle of their baby boy, and, DINNER
still with tears, sweet girl face, lifted
to loving eyes, while set in moonlit
frame OF swaying honey.suckle vines
and blooms. That was long ago !;
there was no trace lett ol girish grace
or beauty in the face before him, worn
by care and time, but, looking, he saw
not the vanished iairness, but some.
thing better, sweeter still, crowning
the years they had walked together,
and touched by a sudden impulse, he
took her thin worn hand in his, saying
withatrom Of deep feeling thread.
| ing his voice
"Say not 80, wife. Wearothe Lords.
lie is the giver as well as the taker,
and though sit here a lonely and per.
haps a childish old man. am not lott
desolate nor lack a Thanksgiving guest
while you are left me"
Forgive me, Ansel sobbed Han.
nah Place, resting her head on her hus
bands shoulder, sand may God forgive
me my ungrateiul thoughts while we
are spared each other. But this pain
of uncertainty at my heart grows
heavier than / can well bear. To
know that Willie was dead we're q
comfort beside this fear that haunts
me day By day, that he is a wanderer,
an outcast, suffering, perhaps lost to
God and himself" Her voice choked,
and for few moments only the ticking
ofthe tall old clock in the corner broke
the stiffness then she spoke again,
Do you know, Ansel, | often wonder
If we were wholly blameless.? Willie
was wild and thoughtless, but he was
a loving boy, and | cannot believe he
was bad at heart"
81, too, have been wandering that
Of late God knows | loved and tried
TO do my duty by the boy, but fear
| was over strict, too severe with what
were only boyish errors, and that in.
stead of leading hlm 10 the right way
] drove him from it. | thought then
| was tight, but tho more | think Of
our heavenly Fathers oveand patience
with us, who are at the best hut weak,
erring children, | feel how much |
failed myself"
So hand in hand they sat an talked
of this long absent son, whose name
had not for years passed their lips, re.
minded each other Of ways and words
that neither bad forgotten, yet which
were sweeter for the others telling.
Laughing through their tears at treas.
ured child memories, and speaking in
lower tones Of the sad days when the
high boyish spirit bad risen in fierce
rebellion against restraint, and Of that
darkest OF all, when they had awaken,
ed to find that home and hearts had
been alike forsaken and this their only
son had gone out beyond their love
and care, each taking the blame of the
mistake made in trying to break in-
stead Of train that intangible but in.
tractable power OF will,
deacon Places Willie bad run
away" 1t had been bitter blow to
pride and heart, so that for years bis
prayer that "the arm Of the Lord
might be over their wanderer," was
more an imprecaton than a blessing (;
but with the creeping weakness of age,
ho felt the need OF the strong young
arm he had thought would have been
his stay and comfort, and onight each
confessed to the other the yearning
with which they longed to behold their
child.
The night wind rose unheeded as
they talked, da'hing the waves in a
foam of spray on the beach. The fog
lifted from over the water. The warn.
ing bell ceased its dreary tollng, and
the CLEAN of the Forkness light flashed
out q path Of splcndor in the night.
The rain ceased. Only the withercd
l,aves stirred and rustled fitiuly
around the feet of one whose steps
were turned toward long iorsaken
home. Trial and toll had made Of the
sell. .wiled boy resOlute man. 0Ot
amid the buflotng and cold indifer.
once of the world, the memory OF the
smarting resentment under whose
passion he had fled soon faded, leaving
only the teuderest recolloctions of lov.
ing ministries and cares. The breath
Of his fathers prayers had folded
round him in many an hour Of tempta
tion. Tho touch Of his mothers hand
upon his boyish head held him from
many vice, and with the years u
longing had grown with him to tread
once more the old familiar paths, and
look in the dear remembered faces
There had been doubts asto his recep.
tion, and fears that they gray heads
might be laid under the grasses, but AT
last, lured by antumnal memories oI
dropping nuts in the brown woods
and hearth fires glowing bright, he bad
turned his way eastward, from over
the lar prairies. Nearer he came, and
nearer Tho lights of the village shine
around MIN. rhv ovuud OF tue suii is
in his ears. Oace moro he travels the
old familiar road his hand is on the
gate, his feet on the worn doorstep
There is a knocking at the door, and
Ansel Place, shading his dim eyes with
his had as he opens 1t, looks out into
the face of neighbor, as he had
thought, but Of tall and bearded
stranger, who craved q nights shelter
Old Bruno had raised bis head IRON
his paws on the entrance. Then with
a ,,,;a,, ha III ap-anf, fatuarl him fnhp