Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1882-12-27

stood there the clock in the church
tower struck II.
"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 midnight SER
vice. Your father insisted upon his 60
ing with us, but there had been hard
words between them that day, and for
the first time he openly rebelled. He
would not go; and when / knew it [
wanted to stay with him, but feared it
looked like sanctioning his disobedience.
So / went, and all through the, diving
hours of the year my heart was with my
child. God only knows how the mo-
ments dragged, how discordant seemed
the praises, how impossible to freight
the prayers with my heartache. At last,
against your fathers wishes, crept out
and came home. You were safely asleep
in your little crib, and [ had said to
Harry, as I went out, Take good care
of your little sister,
GA strange fear had taken possession
Of me that he meant to go away. Once,
when angry, he had threatened to go,
aud his father answered, You will be
glad enough to come back to me for
your bread! 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 I walked home, to believe that
he would not leave you alone. But l
went from room to room In the lower
part of the house; | passed with trem-
bling steps to his chamber. He was not
there. [ searched for some message,
some word or line to say he loved his
mother, and I found at last, what has
been a comfort all these years, little
note pinned to your nightdress as you
lay in the little crib. l have it now.
[ kept it near me till | wore it out, so
that | feared [ could not read the words:
I am going, mother | know not
where, nor for how long, but | shall
never come back to father for my bread!
But | love you, mother, and if / live /
will come back to you! L have waited
for him ever since, Mary, and since that
day / have never been once to the mid
ilb SCI VICE.
"Once there came to us the story of
the wreck of a 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, ] wait and watch for him still,
and your father knows it, and think it
irritates and disturbs bin, for every year
he urges me to go. [ have felt that [
could never do 1t, but somehow tonight
feel as if should like to try again. Let
us walk down together, child, and have
this last year with the people of Go1p
Willing to do anything to soothe her
mothers agitatedfeelings, 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 quiet
ly into a back seat. When the music
ceased, they sat with bowed heads, each
thinking her own thoughts for the dying
year, when a voice broke on their ears
so chan e q and softened that they hard
90 recognlz {, at first, the voice of Dea-
An Frost. After q few broken SEN
es 1t grew clearer, and he told of his
struggles with poverty, Of his efforts to
hold his home, OF his hard conviction
that God was looking after everybody's
welfare buthis, and leaving him, though
he had tried to serve him, to fight his
battles alone. He told them of the
humiliation and bitterness with which,
that very night, he had gone to the house
of his creditor with the admission that
he could not pay his debt, and that he
had been net there by the smiling state
ment that the debt, principal and inter.
est, had, this very day been paid by
friend, or by friends, who wished to re-
main 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 hard
ness 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.
He made bad piece Of work of the
story, but the people knew he felt it,
and that he was going into the New
Year with new love In his heart.
And there were tears running down
the white, wrinkled face in the back
seat. The deacon's 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. There was
stiffness. Every heart was silently lay
ing its burden upon the breast of the
dying year-its burden of the things to
be cleft behind ;" before the soul could
press forward toward the mark" It was
all very sweet and still, and the deacon's
wife felt how good it was to be there,
when there arose from her side the tall
form of 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