Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1884-11-22
HOMESICKN
Some Experiences which May Revive
Memories.


Memories.
Reader, were you ever homesick? When
you first left the parental roof and went
out into the wide world to hew out road
to fortune and to fame, did you not feel
that strange sense of unrest that made it
seem impossible that you could live another
hour away from home? Where one has
not had this experience a hundred have.
Well do ! remember when, at Is years of
age, | went out from father, mother, home
and friends and sought an education nearly
500 miles away The novelty of my new
surroundings in the city, having passed all
my life on a farm, sustained me for month
or more, and then | felt the gnawing at my
heart one evening" and for weeks and
months it came and came again. | was
standing in the front yard at my boarding
place wheD suddenly lump arose in my
throat and almost choked me. ] was look
ing in the direction of my old home, and
my gaze went over the houses along the
river, and over the tree-tops on the bluff
saw, in imagination, the old fire-side
Mother, dear old mother, was sitting there
at her accustomed place, knitting away as
if her life depended on turning the heel"
of that stocking. Father was reading the
village paper, just as had seen him do a
hundred times. Ny brothers and sisters
were all there as usual, and the cat dozed
and purred before the fire of cracking
branches, and the backlog of hissing-hot
elm rolled from its place and scattered en-
hers here and there, as | had seen it do
over and over again. The shouts of the
children, the terror Of the cat, the hurry
Of mother to brush the glowing Goals from
the old rag carpet before they should add
to the number Of unsightiy holes already
burned in it, the activity of father in
checking the progress OF the backlog with
his heavy boot, the overturning andirons,
the choking smoke and ali the accompany
ing excitement and effort to repair dam
ages, were as | had seen them often; but |
was not there to help, and an unfathom-
able longing to go and participate in the
dear old scenes came upon ME. What
would | have given for the poor privilege
of burning my fingers in futile effort to
set up the fallen fire-dogs? How should |
have leaped and danced for iov even to
have couehed from breathing the smoke.
1t would have been only second to heaven
TO have had mother bind up my blistered
fingers, and little sister to put her chubby
hands upon them and hurt them in her
anxiety to find out whether | was sham
ming. But no; this picture was but
mirage, and must wait. One day letter
came. 1t said another sister had been
born to me. How very strange | felt l
had sister had never seen, and when
talked about it at the table the other
boarders laughed at me and said | was
homesiek | cried each night when | had
gone to bed, and in the morning my pillow
was wet with tears, and at the table my
roommate told of how ! had called for
mother in mysleep, and so was a laughing
stock again. The lady of the house was
kind to me, and often, when she found
me weeping, had stroked my hair so
like my mother had in years agone, /
wept afresh. At last day came when |
was going home. The hours seemed ages,
and the minutes to elapse before the train
would come were hours of torture. At last
good-bv was said to my new friends, the
bell was tapped and | was on the way.
The speed was far too slow, and almost
felt that | could go faster if were afoot.
When at last the brakeman called the
names of stations that | knew, my heart
beat high with ever-rising hope, and | was
in an ecstacy of JOY. At last the whistle
sounded and the brakeman called the
station near my home, The train it seemed
would never stop. The platform reached,
sprang off. What change had come
upon the world? The buildings I had
thought so high two years before were very
low; the girls were in long dresses, and my
little sweetheart was so tall and slender,
sly and blushing, ] could hardly speak to
her At home it was the same. Father
and mother were more gray, the children
were larger, and ! called the one had
never seen by the name I'd called the next
one older before | went away. The cat
was sleepy and inactive, and the fire upon
the hearth not half so bright. Alas. a
change had come, and home was never
home again. - Bloomington Through
Mail.