Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1882-02-01

TO leave her alone. But az the evening wore
on, and the mother and daughter sat in the
freight talking over all the story Of her boys
young life, Mrs. Frost grew restless. She
arose and went TO the window, and looking
up and down the white road, over which bent
the boughs of naked trees, and away across
the snowy fields, she seemed TO ask the earth,
which somewhere hid his grave or felt his
footstep, and the stars that must have seen
his wanderings, for tidinqs of her boy. As
she stood there the clock In the church tower
struck eleven.
"There's only one hour more in this year,
Mary" she said turning to her daughter,
who sat gazing into the fading fire, "only
one hour in this year. He will not come
tonight, and ever since he went away have
watched the old year out, waiting for him.
| He went away while we were at the mid
night service. Your father insisted upon
his going with us, but there were some hard
words between them that day, and for the
| first time he openly rebelled. He would not
go, and when knew 1t wanted to stay with
him, but feared it looked like sanctioning
his disobedience. So | went, and all through
the dying hours of the year my heart was
with my child. God only knows how the
moments dragged, how discordant seemed
the praises, how impossible to freight the
prayers with my heartache. At last, against
your fathers wishes, l orept out and came
home. You were safely asleep in your
little crib, and l had said TO Harry, as |
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
enough to come back TO me for your bread L
and could not forget that the thought Of
going had once crossed his mind. This
recollection and this fear made me bid him
watch over you. He was very fond OF you,
and tried as | 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 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 comfort all these years,
note pinned to your night-dress as you lay
in the little crib. | have it now. | kept it
near me till wore it out, so that feared
could not read the words Il am going,
mother, l know not where, nor for how
long, but l shall never come back to father
for my bread But love you, mother, and
if live / will come back to you'll have
waited for him ever since, Mary, and since
that day have never been once to the mid
| night service.
"Once there came to us the story OF the
wreck of vessel bound from South America
to New York, and among the names Of the
lost was one like that of my little boy. But
did not believe he was dead. can never
believe him dead. wait and watch for him
| still, and your father knows 1t, and think
| it irritates and disturbs him, for every year
he urges me to go. have felt that could
never do it, but somehow tonight feel as
| if l should like TO try 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 wrapped 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 quietly into back seat.
| When the music ceased they sat with bowed
heads, each thinking her own thoughts for
the dying year, when voice broke on their
ear so changed and softened that they hardly
recognized, at first, the voice of Deacon
Frost. After few broken sentences it grew
clearer, and he told of his struggles with
poverty, of his effort to hold his home, of his
hard conviction that God was looking after
everybody's welfare but his, and leaving him,
though he had tried to serve him, to fight his
battles alone. He told them of the humilia-
ton and bitterness with which, this very
night, he had gone to the house of his cred
itor with the admission that he could not
pay his debt, and that he had been met with
the smiling statement that the debt, prin-
cipal and interest, had this very day been
paid by friend, or by 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 anxiety and care, and the act had been
as Goals of fire upon his heart, lighting it
till he saw his hardness and sin, warming it
till it melted in 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 to his fellow-men.
There were tears running down the white,
wrinkled face in the back seat. The dea-
cons 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 around and search
for Mary in the crowd, yet, strange to say,
no anger arose in his heart.
The moments sped on. IT was all very
sweet and STILL and the deacons wife felt
how good it was to be there, when there
arose from her side the tall form of a man
who had occupied the seat alone when the
mother and daughter came in. She had not
looked at him, but now as she gazed at the
erect figure and the bearded face, she saw
and knew her son. A stihed moan escaped
her lips. His eyes looked tenderly down
upon her and steadied and gave her strength.
She chung to the hand he gave her, and
bowed her face upon it while he spoke.
al cannot let the old year co." he said
! "sitting here among my old neighbors,
i without telling them of the blessing that the
year has brought to me. 1t has been the
year of birth to me-of birth into the only
real life-that hidden with Christ in God
Thirteen years ago, on the last night
of the year, while my parents prayed here
with you, turned my back on you and
r on my home, on my baby sisters face, on
my mothers tears and began my life oil
wanderings. They have lasted many years
/ they have led me into many forbidden
: paths but in every one, however far astray
y l have heard the voice of God calling me
have seen my mothers face watching fol
;. me through the nights and especially al
a each year brought around the anniversar,
a of my flight, have felt her prayers follow
r. ing me. / have heard her speaking tenderl,
q to me again and again. have remembered
a the love with which she made and hid TO
+ me the little Christmas gifts, aud resolved
a. to arise and while this year fingered, t.
y bring myself back to my mother, and to &C
K knowledge before you all the wonderful
ar mercy and love which | have found in re
7 turning TO my mothers God"
4 And as the last words died upon his lip:
IL and he sat down, throwing one strong arr
around his mother and drawing her hea
IN down to his shoulder, the deacon knew fron
W whom his New Years gift had come.
Ia "Forgive me, Harry" he said aloud
- moving with outstretched hand, and tn
4 tears streaming over his rough cheeks to tn
ar side of his son.
n. "Nay, father, forgive mel" and as the
III clasped each others hands the old churc
ID clock struck twelve.
fe Somewhat Mixed.