Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1886-10-07
No. e..


child continued; but if God loves them
it don't seem as if we ought to be afraid
does it 2
oh. Sophie Penn, amt you sham
ed" one of the girls said, with IL g1g-
gle.
She ought not to be ashamed I
like you to ask questions
Then the school was over, and us the
teacher went slowly into church, she
wondered why she had been sent, and
whether. after all, she had not failed in
teaching the lesson.
{ Two or three days after, a miserable
figure was wandering down a shady
country lane, looking sadly out of place
in the peaceful ecenc, for the wild roses
bloomed in the fence corners, and
through the tall trees arched overhead,
the sunlight filtering in tremblingly
patterns upon the green grass below,
while the tinkle of little stream along
broke the stiffness. The figure was
that of a man who should still have
been young, but who was bent and
Worn with fatigue and still ll-heath
and the dust of long tramps clung to
his broken shoes and ragged clothes
Suddenly all strength seemed to leave
hla, and he sank down at the foot Of
tree, resting his head upon his ARMS
lie might have continued to sit there a
! long time, but childish voice singing
a merry little song reused him, and
resting his head head suddenly he met
the startled glance of pair of blue
eyes. The little girl stood irresolute,
half ready for flight, but the mans
voice arrested her, hoarse from fatigue
and weakness: Don't rum away; in
decd | will not hurt you,
1t almost breaks my heart to see how
the children fear me.
She came few steps towards him.
I will try and not be afraid, she said,
IN her sweet, girlish tones. 4 meant
never to be afraid after last Sunday. -
What about last Sunday we had IL
new teacher at Sunday school, cause
Miss Lima was sick, and she was telling
US about Lazarus, and she aaid God
loved beggars and tramrs.' There was
the sound Of a choking sob, but no
words interrupted her. Besides, if it
had not been for grandmother, might
have been u tramp myself for you
know she amt my really rightly gran
ME ut all. WAS sent to her one sum-
mer to board, by some good people in
the city, and when the time was up, be-
cause my mother was dead and | had
no friends grannic would not let me
go back, but kept me for her own lit
tie girl. And I love her. Id die
most for grannie.' And the little face
was lit up with the glow of her love-
And are you the only child?' the
man asked, has grannie no one else .:
'Hrsh,' the the child said, lowering
voice, 'gr,nnie had Il real child once,
but it makes her sad to talk about it.
He ran away from home, turned wild,
the nelghbors say, and for years and
Years she has never heard from him.
never said much, but one night We
went to Il temperance meeting and they
sang Where is my wandering boy to-
night, and grannie cried and cried
Every night we pray for him, her son,
her poor wandering, grannie calls him
Lower sank the mans head, while the
child pratted on. I often think how
Id love to find him and tell how his
mother loves him, then take hold of
his hadd, and lead him right back. [
can see how grannie would look and
how her eyes would shine. But poor
man, how sick you are. Come home
with me and grannie will give you
something to eat for the sake Of her
SON who is grannie? ? Tell me her
name, child the man said, rising un-
steadily to his feet and laying his hand
heavily upon her shoulder.
Ceramics name is Mrs. Brown, and
she lives IN that pretty house on the hill
up there. Come with me. am not
one bit afraid of you now. What
words are those he is speaking? The
child cannot understand what he means
I will arise and go to my father -
Then putting his hand in the chllds
they 90 slowly up the hill side.
Grandmother Brown was sitting up
on her little vii shaded porch in ut-
ternoor cap and gown, knitting brisk
ly, and looking over the trim garden,
with its brilliant and fragrant flowers,
to the green hills beyond. a cherry,
bright faced woman, with lines Of care,
it IS true, traced on her bl DAD brow -
D. - b.