Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1883-04-24

the seasnore. lou see now Oaoy Is'
Oh, Jack, ask your father to let US re-
turn home"
"Oh, you wouldn't be satisfied, Nell.
if we went back. 1t is dreadfully stu.
pid down there these summer days
with the hsymaking and the resping and
all that sort of thing. We should never
be able to endure it now."
I said no more. The long, bright,
burning days wore on, and our bills ran
up higher and higher, and baby's little
breath seemed to grow weaker and weak
er. and poor Jack seemed to look dread
fully i'll and worn. And one afternoon
he was sent home in carriage, quite
unconscious, stricken down by sudden
fever.
put my pride aside and wrote let
ter to Jacks father.
"Jack and baby are both ill., l 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 sheriff was before
him, jack having confessed judgment in
lawsuit The rumor that we intended
to leave town got out, and our creditors
rushed in, anxious to secure the lions
share Of our effects. The Brussels car
pet, the handsome furniture, and costly
bric- -brac, all went under the hammer
at a disasterously low figure.
"Never mind" said my father in. law,
not shadow Of reproach on his kind old
face "let them squabble over it if they
will. We must get the sick ones
home"
So we got poor Jack into the carriage,
and with his poor hot head upon my
knee and baby in my arms, turned my
ba:k upon the scene Of my short lived
triumph.
1--WE are going back to Cherry Hill"
said the old gentleman, as in the dusk
of the golden day we drove through the
dewy stiffness Of the sheltered land.
"The old home has been waiting for you
all these months. was pretty sure you
would come back"
| could not utter one word in answer.
A great full moon was rising above the
distant bills 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, and the
cattle bells tinkled in the barn yard.
The doors were wide open. We carried
Jack in and laid him down in the broad
breezy room that had been our bridal
chamber.
He opened his eyes and drew a deep
quivering breath as the freshening breeze
touched his quivering head.
Nell, where are you:" he said.
Surely this must be home
al am here, Jack" answered through
my tears land this is home, dear-Old
Cherry Hill"
Thank God :" he murmured, and fell
back upon the pillows. and saw great
tears trickling from beneath his closed
eyelids.
Beyond the open window in the silver
glory of the rising moon, the old grand
father sat, with baby at his feet, half
hidden in the rank, cool grass, and even
a, that hour the pigeons came auttering
around her as of old, and she screamed
with rapture as she clutched at them
with her thin little hands.
rose softly and fell on my knees be-
side Jacks low pillow.
"Oh, Jack" l sobbed, 81 sobbed, 81
have been SO wicked. Forgive me Jack,
forgive me l am so glad to be at home
again"
His worn face grew radiant and his
dear arms held me close.
And then and there, clasped to my
husbands heart, in the sweet shelter OF
the home he loved, understood all the
past.
"You didn't mean it Jack" l whis-
pered. "You only pretended to enjoy it
all to please me-"
He smiled at me with his grave, fond
eyes. =,
"And, oh, Jack, our money is all,
and"
He silenced me with kiss.
"No matter, little woman; the lesson
we have learned has been cheaply bought
We shall not care to leave the safe ole
nest in search of fashion and society
again.
| could not answer. | heard my baby
cooing to the pigeons in the grass. ane
sat there, clasped in Jacks forsivinl
arms, the happiest woman the round