The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1883-09-26

| mixed Win lOam lOT leltlllIiliS tut
land.
If he had found q spray of those
gorgeous leaves fastened upon the
cheerless walls of his sons room he
would have tossed it contemptuous-
ly from the window.
Frank Raymond hung about his
fathers wagon regretfully that morn
ing.
His heart ached he was hungry
for a kind word. If it had only been
spoken it would have turned the
scale. But at last his father noticed
his lettering, and in his imperative
way ordered him to 60 to his work
and quit idling.
Frank walked off and Mr.. Ray
mond drove off.
After his father had gone, Frank
finished the tasks that had been Civ
en- him, and then went to the house
to bid his mother good bye.
His intention was to go to Weston
"a manufacturing town hundred
miles away.
Mrs. Raymond had written let
ter of introduction to manufactur-
er there. whose wife was her friend,
briefly explaining thai her son want
ed work, and asked him, if possible
to give him chance.
A sad afternoon was that to Mrs.
RAYMOND. She had given Frank all
the money she possessed-a few dol
lars--and he had gone, after tear
fll parting and a promise given to
write when he had found work.
Frank Raymond walked sadly,
but resolutely down the road.
Once he turned about and looked
yearningly toward the house.
His mother was standing by the
door.
He waved his hand then, DASH
ing the tears from his eyes, walked
quickly onward, and was soon out
of sight.
If the inhexible laws of justice
were tempered by gentleness and
forbearance. if homes were made as
attractive as are the gilded haunts
of Wce and crime, our prisons and
reformatory institutions would be
less crowded.
Mrs. Raymond dreaded her hus-
bands return. for she knew how an
cry be would be, and thought it
might be righteous Indignation,
still he was very human deacon
after all, and the contingency was
one that he would not be prepared
to meet. .-
When Deacon Raymond returned
at dusk, and called out in his quick,
impatient way for Frank to come and
take his horse, Mrs. Raymond re-
sponded to the summons, telling him
that Frank had left home.
The Deacon looked unutterable
things, and uttered few words that
had better been unsaid.
'Ungrateful, good d-for-nothing boy,
he exclaimed at last, after he had
exhausted all the expletives that
deacon's vocabulary may lawfully
contain, 'after all my toiling and
saving to lay up money for him.
If a little of it bad been judicious-
ly used instead Of being laid up, his
wife thought the trouble might have
been averted, but she considerably
left the opinion unexpressed.
After that night Deacon Raymond
rarely mentioned Franks name, but
he grew more morose, if possible,
than before.
When Christmas day came, and
he and his wife sat down to their
bountiful meal, the deacon did not
enter into the enjoyment of those
comforts with his accustomed zest.
Frank was not there; he did not
give that reason, however, for his
poor appetite, but guessed he was
getting dyspepsia.
Two Christmas seasons had gone
by since Frank RAYMOND left h
home.
His mother had heard from him
many times during that time.
Mrs. Leslie, the wife of Franks
employer, had written several let
tiers, speaking of Frank in high
terms of commendatiop, aud telling
how much confidence her husband
reposed in him.
He was working hard, saving his
wages to 90 to school when he had
earned enough.
Once he wrote:
You might give my love to faith
er, if he would care; but he won't,
l suppose
And Mrs. Raymond accidentally
left the letter where her husband
would be sure to pick it up, and
came back for it just in time to see
him give it a toss on the table as she
opened the door, with a muttered
expression that sounded like: Poor,
foolish boyp
Two years passed since Frank
Raymond went from home.
Mary he said, one evening, after
he had hung about the house for q
week in an aimless, dispirited way,
Il