The National tribune., 1881-11-19
SELLING THE Farm,

know we cannot pay It. have thought it oer and DER
For the wheat has failed the corner lot where wheat
never failed before.
And everything gone since Willie went
OFF to sen,
10 pay the mortgage and the farm the homestead
for you and me
know it best to give IL IL uas RIGHT that the doh,
be paid
Inc ueot that our thoughess Willie in the hours of his
weakness made
Anu "I would have paid it fairly, you know 1t as well
the SNIP had not gone down that night when no other
ship was nigh
But somehow, didn't quit hoping and have ever tried
to pray " Viva
but know if our Will was sfv. 90, o,-.,, ,,.., -,-
been here to-day
thought that the merciful Father would b or
for the lad,
Because he trying better the psst o,d ros,,a.
he all we had
But am well nigh hopeless since hone for ,h,
has fed,
For selling the farm means giving him up, and knowing
for sure he's dead.
Obi Thomas how leave it, the home we have
always known?
We away from the forest and made 80 much our
First day kept house together the day that you
brought me here,
And other place in the wide wide world will ever be
half dear.
Of course you remember it Thoma5-I need not ask
you. know,
For this is the month, and this the dayit twenty
six years ago.
And don't you remember It, Thomas the winter the
barn made?
How proud and happy for all our debts
were paid
The crops were good that summer, and everything
worked like a charm,
And we felt rich and contented to think had paid
for the farm.
And to think we must leave il where here was
hoping to die
1t if it breaking my heart, but the fount
of my tears is dry.
There's up there in the village that's wanting to
buy. You say.
Well, Thomas, he'll have to have it, but why does he
to-day?
But there it is wrong grieve YOU for have enough
TO bear,
And in all petty troubles you always have borne
your share;
am but sorry helpmeet since have childish grown
There, there, go up to the village; let have 1t
alone.
Poor Thomas, he's growing feeble, he steps weary
and slow,
There's much in his looks to-day like twenty-sx
years ago
But know that his heart is youthful, was when
first wed,
And his love strong for me- and for Willie
boy that's dead.
Oh Willie my baby Willie never shall see him more;
never shall hear his footsteps he comes through
the open door
" How are you, dear little mother" were always the
words he'd say;
It seems if would give the world hear again
to-day.
i knew when my boy coming, be it early or
late,
He always whistling Home, Sweet Home" as he
opened the garden gate.
And many and many moment, since the night that
the ship went down.
Have started up whistle like his out there the
road from town;
And in many night of in the silence, early and
late,
Have / held my breath at a footstep that seemed to
pause at the gate
hope that he cannot wherever his soul may be;
Ii would grieve him know the trouble that's
father and me.
is the he planted the day he twelve
years old;
The sunlight is gitterins through it. turning it's
leaves 10 gold;
And often when was lonely, and at hand,
have talked to it. hours togetheras If it could under
stand
And sometimes used to fancy, whenever spoke of my
boy,
waving its leaves together like clapping its hands
for joy
1t may be the that will it, that's coming to
buy to-day,
VIII be chopping down. digging it up and burning
it out of the way.
And there the pansies yonder and the he
helped to tend
Why every bush the dear old place is as dear
tried old friend.
And now must go and leave them-blIt there they
have come from town.
haven't had time smooth my hair to change
my gown.
them both quite plainly although getting
late
And the strangers q whistling Home Sweet Home"
as he comes up from the gate.
go the kitchen now for don't want to look
his face.
What right he be whistlin2 that unless he has
bought the place?
Why that be Thomas coming? he usually steps so
slow;
There's something into his footsteps like twenty
six years ago.
There's something that sounds like gadness and the
man that he used to be
Before Willie went from home to die Oh the
stormy
What, Thomas Why you smiling and holding my
hands so tight?
And why don't you tell quickly-Inust We go from
the farm tonight?
What's that, You bring me tidinss and tidings OF
wonderful joy
It cannot be joyous unless it is of my boy.
Oh Thomasi You cannot mean il. Here, let me look
in your face.
Now, tell again il Willie that's wanting to buy the
place.
JOHN PLOWMAN'S PROVERBS.
Faults are always thick where love Is thin
There's no use in wing down and doing nothing
because we cannot do everything as we should