The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1888-01-12
Back to the Old Place.

dCpOIf III AC"iotOhs oaC
gray-whiskered old fellow in broad
trimmed hat. He had been studying a
timetable with some perplexity, and
had just laid it aside. Aquestion from
him, relative to the starting of the
trains for Oxford county, was intro
duction enough. His voice was
hoarse, but not unpleasant. His in
Election was odd. Being a "down
easter" it was safe for the writer to
guess that the stranger was from the
west
From the westp"
'sYou bet" was the reply.
''Going to Oxford countyp"
That's where I'm going"
Conversation was desultory until the
westerner opened up.
Said he: sits thirty-two year since
| see the hills of Maine. 1 was raised
up in Oxford county. / reckon / ant
thought O these hills since I were a
boy in copper-toed boots, with a good
old daddy-too good, God bless him,
for nary such youngster as l were.
l left home when l were 16 and went
out west; then | came back and went
to sea. | coasted eight years, and in
80 went on deep sea voyage and
brought up in California. I've been
there ever since. Have come back
now"
''Alone?"
''Alone? Yea, alone! That's the
bother of it my boy. Nary a darned
soul there nor here as l knows of, that
cares whether l get here or not-a
lonesome old man. Don't you do it.
Take my word for it, it's awful. For
thirty-tive year nothing to think of but
work and dig and dive. No wife.
Never had none. No friends except
the boys in the diggins when l first
went there, and in town where I've
been runnin' little business of my
own for the past eight years. Nothing
ahead of me for the past twenty years
but getting rich. No letters from any,
body as | knows of. Nothing in my
dreams but money. Nothing else in
the visions of the mountain peaks,
nothing else in the changing surface of
the Pacific whenever I've caught a
glimpse of it. I've been sordid,
mean, low-lived skinflint part of the
time and q roisterin', hell-of-a-poor
fellow the rest of it. Lookin' back, it
makes lump in my throat, boy, it do,
honest, and | agree that wasted life
is the awfulest thing beneath the
canopy of blue. 1t makes me sick.
don't like to think of it. I like to
talk, ye see, to keep away from think
ing of it."
"Goin' back to the old place?"
1.-The old place? Eh! Yes, the old
place. Leastwise that's what Ireckon
What do
Hadn't thought O home for forty-fve
years. Hadn't been to church any to
speak of. 1t were only just a song as
did it. A little old-fashioned song
that l heard in the evening, three
months ago, bout mother that wanted
to know where her wandering boy
was. 1t came up out O the night way
off there beyond the mountains and I
thought of my old mother, God bless
her, and of the old place. l couldn't
sleep for a cent, that night. / turned
and twisted and sweat great drops. l
kept thinkin' about home and about all
I'd eyer read or heard about it. Seems
as though l could see the old lady's
face looking into mine, with eyes full
of love, as good as she did when were
a kid. l thought it over for day or
two. Life didn't look half SO rosy out
there. Fact is, wanted to go home,
just home, nowhere else, and you bet
1 started when L made up my mind
think only kind O want to see the
grave of my mother and fix up the
family lot, you know, and do you
know, my boy, have been sort o.
holdin' on to have a good cry,) some
thing / amt known for thirty Year,,
and when Pm done with that, and
when I've SHE'D around and seen all I
want to of the old place, I'm goin' to
Boston and see a brother of mine and
go back again beyond the Rockies and
die there with my face toward the east.
/ could afford to do it, and / amt the
sort to be ashamed of it. Le me tell
you one thing, though, all of life and
all its gold amt worth the loss of your
mothers love. Put that down to keep.
For if you was me You would be able
to prove it, and you wouldn't run any
risk of being lured away from it by
any of the other things of earth. It's
the best thing the Lord gives us, and
the last thing, Pm thinking, He ought
to take away"