News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1884-02-07
ONE TOUCH OF NATURE.

ONE TOUCH OF NATURE.
Out there along the hillside were the
pauper graves.
Over the meadow, through the beaten
path, the sad procession took its way.
Upon the shoulders of four stout men
the plain, rude coffin was carried.
Back of the bearers limped poorly
clad, decrepit old man. Upon his
scanned face was that look of woe which
comes when the pail of death falls and
enshrouds the mourner with its somber
hues.
The last sad words were said, the
last clod was packed down.
Back through the meadow path the
people weDded their wny-an but the
old man, the chief mourner, the sorest
afflicted of all
By the side of the newly-made mound
he stands; his hat lay upon the ground
at his feet; his wrinkIed hands were
clasped together upon his breast; the
soft summer breezes stirred his long sill
very locks about his face. In the west
the roseate tinge of the sunset rested
along the horizon, painting rich picture
upon the flushed sky.
He was quiet. sad and sorrowful, and
the bereaved old man standing there
with his silver locks tossing about his
face was the piciute of woe personified.
He stood there silent and unmoved
till the evening shadows fell. And then,
when the sky in the west lost its rosy
hue and turled TO dull gray, he uttered
softly as he bent to pick his hat up:
''Sleep, rest, peace at last"
Back through the meadow path he
hmped, tn, ,ough the wide doorway of
the alnishouse he passed, into small
room situated in the quietest wing of
the abode of poverty he disappeared.
The moonlight falls upon the newly
made mound over there on the hillside;
a pair OF age-dimmed eyes peer forth
from the window pane and try and locate
the mound, underneath which hes-all,
all. Then, treInulous lips utter in soft
whispers as the old man turns to his
bed:
''Sleep, rest, peace at last"
Every morning and evening the sad
old man went and stood by the grave:
and, when ne would turn to retrace his
steps back to the almshouse, he would
softly whisper:
''Sleep, rest, peace at last"
Who is be? What is he?
Within two hours drive from the
aimshouse stands a fne country resi-
dence surrounded by rich farming land.
Some years ago a person upon pass
ing in the summer time might see a
ruddy-faced lad out in the dooryard
playing among the buttercups and
daisies. Time passed on and the lad
grew up, and went away from the de-
voted hearts whose best earthly Joy was
their boy.
, In the city, among the noise and
hustle, he made his way. He won
wealth and afiae, handsome aristrocratic
bride. Thea the music of the childish
prattle filed the grandparents home. as
the city elfs came to spend the hot
summer months in the country.
And then the impending ruin and dis
aster came and, to save the sons honor
and credit, the old people gave up then
dear home.
They went to the city to live with the
son. They did not stay long, for theil
plain, old-fashioned ways were out o
place in the fine city mansion. The son.
wife was proud, and the old people wer,
In the way.
And then when the son, he who's,
honor and credit they had saved by sac
rifcing home and farm, turned agains
them and would not listen to tn
whispers of outraged conscience, tn
old pair went to the only door opened t
welcome them-the almshouse door.
That is all, and enough. Lips tina
begged for grandpa were hushed by ster
ooks from mother and father. Heart
that were warm with love for children
had no care for the sad old couple VIII
passed the long days and nights in-th
Almshouse. almost in sight of the hous
which had saved mans honor an
credit.
Night and morning the sad old ma
visited the grave of his sleeping con
panion. When the autumn leaves in al
their glory fell and covered the mound
with trembling hands the old man woul
clear them away. One chill evening /
did not return to the Almshouse. The
went after him and there, lying aero;
the grave with his silvery hair drifte
about the scanned face, which bore fnall
a calm, satisfied expression, they foun
him. ''Sleep, rest, peace at last"