The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1882-07-15

hay-making, and the reaping, and all that
sort of thing. We should never be able to
endure it now.
| said no more The long, bright, burn
ing DAYS wore on, and our bills ran up
higher and higher, and baby's little breath
seemed to grow weaker and weaker, and
poor Jack himself began to look dreadful
" i'll and worn. And one afternoon he
was sent home in carriage, quiet uncon-
scious, stricken down by sudden fever.
put my pride aside then, and wrote a
letter to Jacks father
Jack and baby are both i'll" I said
..and we are sick and tired of this life.
Pray forgive us, and let us come home.
The very next day the dear old gentle
man arrived, but the bailiffs and officers OF
the law were before him. The rumor that
he intended to leave town had got out, and
our creditors rushed in anxious to secure
the lions share of our effects. The Brus-
sells carpets, the handsome furniture, and
costly brie-a-brac, all went under the ham,
mer at disastrously low figure.
Never mind, said my father-in-law,
not shadow Of reproaeh on his kind old
face: '.let them squabble over it if they will.
We must get our sick ones home :
So we got Jack into the carriage. and
with his poor hot head upon my knee, and
baby in my arms. l turned my back upon
the scene of my short-lved triumph.
"We are going back to Cherry Hill,
said the old gentleman, rs in the dusk Of
the golden day we drove through the dewy
stiffness of the mountain rayine.
..The old home has been waiting for you
all these months | was pretty sure you d
want to come back
| could not utter one word in answer.
A great full moon was rising above the
mountain peaks as we reached the house,
Not the smallest thing was changed. The
great red roses bloomed on the terrace, the
bees droned in their hives, aud the cattle
bells tinkled in the barn yard.
The doors stood wide opef We carried
Jack in and laid him down in the broad
breezy nom that had been our bridal cham
ber
He opened his eyes and drew deep
quiyering breath. as the mountain breeze
touched his throbbing head.
.sNeH, where arr you p he said Sure
IL this mnst be home
II asn here. Jack, answered, thsagh
my tears; and this Is home, dear old Cher
~ Hill
4Thamk God y he murmured. and fell
back on the pillows and | saw great tears
triekling slowly from bensaIh his elosed eye
lids.
Beyond the open window, in the silver
glory &c the rising moon. the old grandfa-
ther sat with baby At his feet, half hidden
in the rank. cool grass, and even at that
hte hour the pigeons futsered around her
IS Of cid, and she screansed with rapture
a. she ciufched al :hen, with her thin litiie
halads.
rose s,fily and zen On my knees be-
side Jack low pillow.
..Oh. Jack, | sobbcd, Il have been -
wicked Forgive me, Jack, furgiye me.
am - glad 10 Be At home again.
And then and there, eiasPed q my hns-
hands heart. in tbs safe, sweet shelter a
the home be loved, | understood al the
past.
~You didn't mean il. Jack, | whisper
ed. -Yca only pretended 10 eRjey i alto
please me.
He smiled at me with his grave, fond
eyes.
And, Oh, JACK, our money i all gone,
and
He sileneed Hse with Xiv
No matter, little wonan, the lesson We
have learned has been cheaply bought,
We shall not carr 70 leaye the safe old
mountain nest IN search of fashion and so
ciety again.
could not answer. heard my baby
cooing to the pigeons IN The grass, and sas
there ciasped in Jacks forgiying arms, the
happiest woman the round world held-