The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1881-05-05


to ask for father. Tom sco!ded me
first for startling him. then he laughed
at my questions, and then he got cool
again, and stared at me-
You won't find your father here
he said; .'you won tnever find him here
again. He's turned off The master
won't have nothing more to do with
him. You'd best go and ask for him at
the public, for he went that way when
the master sent him off. The public's
a good place for him to forget his
troubles in
II stared at the man. trying to un-
derstand what he said, and trying to
beltece him. Father never goes to the
public stammered. What do you
| meah?'
"He's never been turned off work
before tonight laughed Tom. That
what sends 4 man to the public. If he
amt there, something's happened to
him. 60 you and see after him. Don't
stare, he went on. crossing his arms,
and leaning back in his chair by the
fire. Can't We hear what sayp Your
fathers been turned of here. and to.
morrow you re all TO be off out of your
cottage
II caught hold of the table, for the
room was spinning round and round;
and then remember Tom laughed,
and said it again, as if I questioned
him.
Eyes, mean Just what say. Your
fathers been late every morning this
week. and the master won't stand it
not Likely. So you're all to turn out
of your cottage to- morrow for the new
shepherd. 60 home and make as much
as you can of the place to.night, as it IL
be gone Tomorrow
lat first / was afraid to stir, for l
thought if did | should fall: but as
soon as could l crept away from the
mans sight. Out in the darkness
again. all my strength came back. and
ran home faster even than had run
to the Hall, crying mother name all the
way, without knowing what it meant.
1.-The cottage door was open when I
reached it. think she'd put it open
to guide us-father and me; and l
looked in. actually afraid for the first
time in my life of meeting mother.
She was sitting by the fire, her face
white, and the tears falling all the
time. While l stood wondering how to
tell her about father, nv sobs burst out
aud frightened her. But was by her
side then. and fell on my knees, and
laid nv head in her lap. It was just
then. Jim, that remembered my little
untledged birds and their ruined home,
and the mother who had lost them,
and folded my hands and looked up
into mothers face almost as if she had
been God. 'rll never do it again-nev-
err! never! l didn't Know it was so ter
rible. Ill put them back
"Afterward, while told her all that
Tom had said. I tried not to see her
face, and tried still more, Jim, not to
see that old cage in the far corner of
the kitchen, where my little prisoners
were. When I'd done, mother got up
from her seat, and put on her shawl and
bonnet.
"'No, no. MOTHER cried, quite
quietly. though, for fear OF waking baby;
you mustn't 60 out: you'll be i'll again,
and it's quite dark. Oh, let me got
"She stopped and kissed me. It's
no place for YOU, my child. Take care
of baby She couldn't say another
word, and could only watch her 90, as
she had watched me. thinking what I'd
have given to be able to 60 and take
care OF her.
II sat close to baby's cradle, and
stared intothe fire as if that wide stare
could keep the tears away; but all the
while l didn't see the fire at all, but
other .things-oh. Jim, so plainly! l;li.
THE white light crept through the
kitchen window, then the sun rose, and
still father and mother didn't come.
The sun was shining now. and this was
the very day We were to 60. so woke
the twins and dressed them. and
wrapped baby ready, and put the room
in order, all without word, for was
too miserable to cry. At last father
and mother came in, very slowly and
silently, and father put his hand on INV
head, and mother took baby. and then
l knew we were bid Hing good-by to the
little home where we had been so hap
ply, aud I didn't want to cry, though my
heart was breaking, so crept away to
the woodsfor a few minutes. felt that
everything would seem better there,
where should see the sunshine on the
leaves and grass and flowers, and hear
the birds songs among the boughs,
making the leaves seem full of music,
as had so often heard them; and even
higher still. among the. soft white
cj6uds. where I'd often thought that
. fn the angels must like to hear them,
shipping to listen when their own songs
were silent for bit. But. Jim, when
came into the wood. there was no
note of all these bright glad songs.
1.-THE whole wood was heavy with a
dismal silence; and then l knew that it
was my fault that the birds were nm.
happy. and would never sing again.
"What could l do? Was it all too
late? Sobbing bitterly, ran home to
fetch the little orphan birds, and give
the mother back her children and her
home. All. Jim, what change / found
in our own dear home! The little
kitchen that had ALWAYS seemed so SNUG
and bright and cheerful was empty and
bare. Nowhere in the cottage was
there . step or voice to be heard: onlv l
was left there, and with me, in that
nest in the old cage, five little dead
birds.
1.-THE dream had been so real, Jim,
that my cry terrified a gentleman who
was riding past in the darkness, and
heard it. He dismounted, and came
into the cottage kitchen, and I saw it
was the master.
".Were you asleep, Nedp' he asked.
in his kind way. did you cry out in
your sleep?'
Scarcely knowing l had dreamed, I
told him all. about taking the nest, and
disobey ing him. and about the woods
being silent, and how / came home and
found our home ruined, and father and
mother gone. and the birds dead; and
when he looked kindly at me, I fell
down on my knees and begged him to