Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1881-10-20

him. 1t was an expression at infinite
mercy, loving compassion, and yearning
tenderness, yet answering justice, that
seemed to draw him nearer and nearer,
as by some invisible chain. @
81 am Deacon" explained our
friend.
There was no voice, no sound, yet
deep down in his heart he seemed to hear
in living thunders-''I kno,U thee not!'
while the angels turned away in tears.
Don't you know? Don t you remem-
Der? am Deacon Heyworth," he said,
shivering and whitening beneath the
awful horror that grew upon him. But
no 'Well done!" greeted him from the
Presence there; all the glory faded
away-only the cruelly-pierced side and
hands and feet of the thorn-crowned
brow remained; a voice infinite in its
sadness came from out the awful still
ness-''Ye have done this unto mel"
The angels sobbed. and still the hor-
ror grew; he seemed embodied in iv-
ing, breathing agony, with his con-
science his accuser. 'You were Dea-
con, with Deacon's work to do; it was
yours to bind up the hearts of Gods
children, to make the widows heart to
sing for joy, to be peacemaker among
your brethren, and to advance Gods
cause and kingdom in the earth, but
you have not given even cup of cold
water to one of these, His little ones!'"
Wrung from his own soul, yet anoth-
er's, fainter and fainter grew the voice,
and the angels yelled their faces and
turned away; waiting, listening for his
fearful sentence; ages seemed concen-
trated in that one instant of anguish,
and he shrieked aloud.
Nathan, what upon earth! what is
the matter with you?' and Mrs. Hey
worth shook her husband vigorously.
Have you got the nightmarep''
"Oh, Hannah, I've had an awful
dream, an aauful dream!''
"Have you? Nightmare, expect!"
and she turned over sleepily.
It was not the nightmare, Deacon
Heyworth knew, but he did what many
to accept its teaching.
he queried, wonderingly to himself,
scarcely able to deny the reality Of it all:
"Who would ever have thought it of
me, a Deacon"
Shivering, thinking and resolving, he
fell asleep again, and again he dreamed.
He was dead-lying still and pale and
cold; and yet he stood watching his
family as any curious bystander might.
He thought he could read their hearts,
and to his surprise there was not so
much of sorrow as of contentment, deep
down beneath their mourning.
His wife's face seemed to grow bright
er, as if world of care had been re-
moved from her life. "The children
can have their own way now, poor
things!'' she was saying to herself, al
though her eyes were wet; "they could
never do as they liked while their father
was iving!" He thought Willie was
trying hard not to think how glad he
was that he could go to college at last !;
while Mary and Thomas were saying
over and over to themselves, "No per-
son will hinder me now from going to
school when l want to CO." He saw
another form bowed near; it was his
long daughter, and through her
heart were wandering the words "Thank
God, / can come home again!'
1t was terrible. He tried to speak, to
tell them he was not dead, that he loved
them more than they ever knew; it was
in vain, and he saw himself carried
away and buried; but he thought he
could see them still-was with them all
the while-with them, yet immeasura-
bly, separated from them; through days
and weeks, months and years he follow
ed them, all the time suffering a re-
morseful anguish that would have been
insupportable but that he could not
speak or weep. He thought it had been
ten years since he died, and that he had
long been forgotten by any but his fam
lily; his wife now looked restful, happy
and contented; and his children all oc-
cupied places of usefulness and honor in
the world, and he dreamed, often and
often, that their Utmost thoughts were,
1--WE were never happy while father
lived, and we would never have been
happy had he not died!"
He tried to speak, to tell them he
loved them, that he had been with them
all these years, but he could make no
sound, and they turned away; but he
must call them, must speak to them;
again and again he tried to do so, and
| awoke.
Long the Deacon pondered over his
| dreams, and in his heart he felt that
they had not been of himself, but of
God.
"They're warnings, Nathan Hey
worth" he decided at length, solemnly,
swarnings, sure's you live, and yell do
well to abide by 'em."
The ice was melting away, and al
ready the green moss and shining shell
were shimmering up from beneath.
It was breakfast time at Deacon Hey
worth's and the meal was b eng eaten,
as usual, in almost perfect silence.
Again and again had the husband and
father been on the verge of speaking
his lips only opened to close again 81
lently. No one knew of the previous
nights experimental the warnings he
firmly believed he had received; he
could remain forever dumb, and no one
would ever be the wiser, but he had de-
termined to right, if possible, the wrongs
of years, and yeti was not so easy as
he had thought.
William!" he exclaimed at length,
suddenly, slowly breaking an egg into