Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1881-07-25

looked like sanctlonlng his dlsoDedlence.
So went, and all through the dying
hours Of the year my heart was with my
child. God only knows how the mo-
ments dragged, how discordant seemed
the praises, how impossible to freight
the prayers with my heartache. At
last, against your fathers wishes, l
crept out and came home. You were
safely asleep in your little crib, and |
had said to Harry, as l went out, Take
good care of your little sister,
A strange fear had taken possession
of me that he meant to 60 away. Once,
when angry, he had threatened to go,
and his father answered, You will be
glad to come back to me for your bread
could not forget that the thought of
going had once crossed his mind. This
recollection and fear made me bid him
watch over you. He was very fond of
you. and l tried as I walked home, to
believe that he would not leave you
alone. But | went from room to room
in the lower part of the house, passed
with trembling steps up to his chamber.
He was not there, | searched for some
message, some word or line to say he
loved his mother, and | found at last,
what has been a comfort all these years,
little note pinned to your nightdress
in the little crib. I have it now. [
kept it near me till L wore it out, so I
feared I could not read the words: 81
am going, mother, know not where,
nor for how long, but [ shall not come
back to father for my bread But | love
you, mother, and if l live, will come
back to you.' l have waited for him
ever since, Mary, and since that time I
have never attended the midnight meet
ing.
Once there came to US the story of
| the wreck of vessel bound from New
York to South America, and among the
names of the lost was one like that Of
my boy. But l do not believe him
dead, wait and watch for him still,
and your father knows it, and [ think
it irritates and disturbs him, for every
year he argues with me to 60. [ have
felt that 1 could never do it, but some
how tonight | feel as though | would
like to try it again. Let us walk down
together, child, and have this last hour
of the year with the people of God"
Willing to do anything to soothe her
mothers agitated feelings, Mary wrap
ped her warmly, and together they
walked over the white road to the church
door. The notes of hymn came out to
greet them on the still air. The vestry
was filled, and the two women slipped
into back seat. When the music ceas-
ed, they sat with bowed heads, each
thinking her own thoughts for the dy-
ing year, when voice broke out on the
air so changed and softened that they
hardly recognized the voice of Deacon
Frost. After few broken sentences.
it grew clearer, and he told of his strug-
gle with poverty, of his effort to hold
his home. and of his hard conviction
that God was looking after everyday 8
welfare but his, and leaving him, though
he had tried to serve Him, to fight his
battles alone. He told them with what
humiliation and bitterness he had, this
very night, gone to the house of his
creditor with the admission that he
could not pay his debt, and that he had
been met there by the smiling statement
that the debt, principal and interest,
had this day been paid by a friend. or
friends who wished to remain unknown.
He had no unknown friends. God must
have moved the hearts of these, his
brethren, to such compassion on his anx-
iety and care, and the act had been as
heaping Goals Of fire on his heart. Ii ght-
ing it till he saw his hardness and sin,
warming it till it melted to gratitude
and love to God and to those who had
done this good to him who had tried to
love God, with very little love for his
fellow men.
He made bad piece of work of the
story, but the people knew he felt it
and was going into the New Year with
new love in his heart.
And there we're tears running down
the white wrinkled face in the back
seat. The Deacon's wife was glad she
came.
They sang verse, and Mary's voice
was sweet and clear. Young Nelson
heard it: the deacon saw him turn in
search of Mary in the crowd. yet,
strange to say, no anger rose in his
heart.
The moments sped on. There was
stiffness. Every heart was silently lay
ing its burden upon the breast of the
dying year-its burden of the things to
be "left behind before the soul could
"press forward to the mark" It was
all very sweet and still, and the Dea-
cons wife felt how good it was to be
there, when there arose from her side
the tall form Of man who had occupied