The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1885-08-08

III
Mr.. Faxon stepped across the white
hall-foor into the quaint, cool and comfor-
table sitting-room.
The ugh blue paper, like chintz, on
the WALL some "honesty," and dried grass
in opaque white vases upon the high, mar
row mantlepiece, unconsciously struck his
eve, while he took seat, his mind occu-
pied with other thoughts.
"We've been long expecting you, sir,
said the old lady, gently.
Her hands crossed on the spotless ging-
ham apron, her lip trembled a little, but
the serenity of her manner was not much
changed.
But the old mans eyes swan in tears.
He rested both hands on the hickory stick
between his knees, as he sat in a corner,
and bending his forehead upon them, par
TALLY hid his face.
ayes, yes but it comes sort o sudden
now" said the old man.
Mr.. Faxon sat there in speechless sym
pathy.
After little pause, old Mr.. Derby
looked up, and met his eyes.
"Of course it's all right, sir. We don't
question your right to the place, but we've
been sort of unfortunate. | think So
don't you mother 2
The old lady lay back among the cush.
ions of the dimity covered chair. She had
look of the physical weakness Mr.. Faxor
had not observed before. She did not
speak.
Her husband looked at her attentively
A sudden flush went over his thin face.
at is not for myself l care-it is her 7
he cried, striking his cane violently upon
the floor. "She helped to earn this place,
when she was young. There was no kind
of work but what the hands you see lying
so weary now in her lap, sir, was put to
She was up, early and late, always doing
for me and the children. God never made
better wife and mother. And now, sir
it's hard that she should be turned out OF
her home in her old age.
"Hush, hush Daniel!'' said the old lady
softly. "The Lord will provide; and its
not long we have to stay in this world, yor
know"
"Will you tell me the history of the
Mace asked Mr.. Faxon. "How did yor
come to lose it p
at was mortgaged, sir, said the ole
man at last, "to pay the boys college bills
You see we had three children -Selwyn
Roscoe and little Annie. Mother and
didn't have any education, but we said al
along that our children should have; ano
by-and-by we fitted them off for college
Bright smart boys they were-everybody
said my boys had good parts, though Ros-
coe was always a little wild. l think
mother there loved him better for that
He was more trouble, an she elung to hin
close because others blamed him at times
Annie, his sister, was always pleading toe
for Roe. He played truant, and he whip.
ped the boys who told on him; he was al
ways putting his bones in peril, and twice
he was half drowued-yet in spite of al
he was ready for college when selwyn was
though Selwyn was steady as a clock
Mother and [ had been scraping together
for wears. and at last fitted them Off
ave went on denying ourselves, for i
was lust the hope of our lives to have the
boys graduate with all the high honors
time went on, but many crops failed, and
there came disappointment here and
disappointment there, and failing to get to
gether the money the boys sent for-es
pecially Roe we mortgaged the farm TO
five hundred dollars.
"They were nearly through, you see
and mother and Annie thought that eelwyl
might be principal of the Academy o
something when he came home, and no
would be a lawyer, cause he could arguf..
and speak so smart in public, and the none.
would be paid back easy.
HRut from time to time there came ru
mors [ didn't like, as to how Roe was q
in his old wild ways; and at last it cam
like thunderbolt- was suspended ant
had run away to foreign parts. Well,
pass over that, sir; [ tried not to be to-
hard on the boy. Then Selwyn came home
He had graduated well, but he had cough
He didn't complain, but he was thin ant
pale, and soon mother and | saw that tn
son we had meant to rely on was an iaYall
upon our hands. The thought struck m
dumb. But mother was all energy w
travelled here with him, we travelled there
We saw all the noted doctors east and wes
We borrowed more money on the old place
and we never paid any back. | had mad
one or two payments at first, but they wer
but a drop in the bucket At last W
brought Selwyn home to die"
"Don't, Daniel, said the mother, softly
'sHe wants to hear the rest. There
only little more but it's no better. An
ME was like Selwyn-good and patient
delicate like, too. we didn't mind it
first, but her cheeks grew thin and too feC
cough she had from a child grew hardel
and though the best doctor we could g.
came early and late, it was only year al
ter Selwyn died before we laid Annie dow
among the SHOWS. Thank ye, sir, for you
pity Mother and l have shed most
our tears"
Mr.. Faxon put his cambria handkerchl'
back into his pocket.
MYour other son, Roscoe, Mr.. Derb,
did he never come home
'Never It's nigh eight years since "
have seen Roe. He knew he disappointe
us; but that was nothing-was it, mother
II never think of it" said Mrs. Derb.
shaking her head. Perhaps don
know-we took the wrong course with no
He was restless and active. He was vii
but he was loving
Her voice broke.
''Mrs Derby" said Mr.. Faxon, 81 fin
1 know something of your story alread
Your son, Roscoe Derby, who ran away
nineteen years old, is probably living, al
f it may come in my way to obtain some i
| formation of him for you"
The old people had raised eargarly fro
there seats, but he went on quietly:
"Meanwhile be at no inconvenience