Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1881-05-06

other nights. The cottage door was
wide open, and there was mother
standing there, looking out into the
darkness, and listening. When went
up to her, she just put her arm round
my neck, but she didn't look ut me;
she only looked into the darkness.
"'Come In, mother cried;. you
oughtn't to stand here while you are
ILL.,
"But she only stood there trembling,
till baby began to cry and move restless
in her cradle; then mother came in, and
took her up, and held her close to her
neck, sobbing rs I'd neverheard mother
sob before in all my life--never rhed
TO her, and begged her to stop, but
was crying myself too all the time.
And still father didn't come. l was a
silly lad, Jim. and wicked ono, but |
wasn't coward; and so | begged
mother to let me go up to the Hall to
ask about father. For long time she
wouldn't, but at last 1 got her just to
whisper yes in her crying, and was
only too eager to set off. She came to
the door with me, still shivering, and
holding baby wrapped In shawl; and
while she kissed me she whispered
something | couldn't hear; but | sup
pose it didn't matter my hearing, for
she was speaking up to Heaven.
wasn't long reaching the Hall, for
knew every inch of the road, and could
run safely enough even in the darkness.
l went up through the yard, and when
saw light in tho saddle-room, knew
one of the grooms was sitting up to
take the masters horse. and | went in
at once. 1t was Tom Harris, and of
course / was sorry, because he hated
father, and ddn'tlike me; but whoever
it had been, should have gone in then
to ask for father. Tom scolded me
first for startling him, then he laughed
ut my questions, and then he got cool
again, and stared at me.
80 You won't find your father here,'
he said; you won tnever find him here
again. He's turned of. The master
won't have nothing more to do with
him. You'd best go and ask for him Mt
the public, for he went that way when
the master sent him off. The public's
good place for him to forget his
troubles in
II stared at the man. trying to un-
derstand what he said, and trying to
belieue him. Father never goes to the
public | stammered. What do you
meanp'
"He's never been turned off work
before tonight laughed Tom, That's
what sends man to the public. If he
amt there, something's happened to
him. Go 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 ye 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 l remember Tom laughed,
and said it again, as If L 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 tomorrow for the new
shepherd. Go home and make as much
as you can of the place tonight, as it III
be gone tomorrow
''At first | was afraid to stir, for l
Thought if l did should fall; but as
soon as could crept away from the
mans sight Out in the darkness
again, all my strength came back, and
l ran home faster even than had run
to the Hall, crying mother name all the
way, without knowing what it meant.
THE cottage door was open when 1
reached it. think she'd put it open
to guide us-father and me; and
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 stood wondering how to
tell her about father, my sobs burst out
and frightened her. But was by her
side then, and fell on my knees, and
laid my head in her lap. 1t was Just
then, Jim, that remembered my little
unhedged birds and their ruined home,
and the mother who had lost them,
and folded my hands and looked up
into mothers face almost rs if she had
been God. 'rll neverdo it again-nev-
er! never! didn't know it was so ter
rible. I'll put them back
Afterward, while told her all that
Tom had said, etr.ed 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 go out; you'll be ill again,
and it's quite dark. Oh, let me gop
"She stopped and kissed me. Its
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 go and take
care OF her.
~ sat close to baby's cradle, and
stared into the fire as II that wide stare
could keep the tears away; but all the
while didn't see the fire at all, but
other things-oh, Jim, so plainly!
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 go, 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 my
head. and mother took baby, and then
knew we were bidding good-by to the
little home where we had been so hap
py, and didn't want to cry though my
heart was breaking so | crept away to
the woodsfor 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
clouds, where I'd often thought tina,
even the angels must like to hear them
STOPPING to listen when their own song.
were silent for a bit But. Jim, wher
came into the wood, there was nc
note of all these bright glad songs.
1.-THE whole wood was heavy with {
dismal silence; and then knew that i
| was nv fault that the birds ware nm