The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1889-02-09
The Wanderers Return.
A Thanksgiving Story.

left his home fifteen years before, at
the age of nineteen. Since he left, no
word from HIM had reached them.
The faithful heart of the mother re-
fused to think of the lad as dead, and
SO she laid his plate at his old place,
and by it placed a little bouquet of
his favorite flowers
"You see, he may come back at any
time, father, and he'd understand
that we've been thinking of him all
the time.
The old man shook his head. "Boys
like David don't come back, Sarah.
Vice drove him away, and vice will
probably keep him away. lifts any
qualification for you to keep a place
at the table for him, you know lat
| don't object; but ! wish you could
make up your mind that he will new
er come back. These yearly remind
ers only bring the old pain back, and
if could, should like to forget him
altogether"
"No, you wouldn't james. Hewas
wild and disobedient, and brought
shame and sorrow over this thres-
hold; but for all that he's our only
child, and I'm sure we can neither of
us forget that"
II was just fifteen years since the
young man came home one night in
q beastly state of intoXication. 1t
was not the first time, but it was the
first time his father had seen him in
that condition. He was clerk in
dry good store, and when he came
home late at night, his father sup
posed he had been detained by his
business, and went contentedly to
bed. The poor wife, who sat up for
the hayward boy, knew better; but
like many q gentle but unwise mother,
she concealed her sons vice from his
father, hoping he might reform.
Her husband was a very stern man,
and was unSpariEg in his denuncia-
tions ofthe special vice of intemper-
ance. The truth is, she was actually
afraid to tell him.
The night / have spoken of, Mr..
Forrest had a letter to write, which
kept him in the sitting room long aft
erhis usual bedtime. When the slob-
bering. idiotir young drunkard reel
ed into the room, his father sprung
from his chair as if he had been shot.
He looked at his son, but did not
say word. Then he sat deliberate
ly down in a chair and watched him,
with such look on his white, set
face that his terrified wife laid her
trembling hand on his arm. He shook
it off. In few moments he turned
to her, and said, in hard, merciless
voice:
"Howlong has this been going on,
Sarah?"
'"Oh, don't know, James!" she
'sobbed. give seen him two or three
times under the influence of liquor,
but never so bad as this, James. L
didn't tell you because he promised
to reform. Oh, don't be too hard on
him, father! Pray, don't be too hard
upon him!'
"Too hardp' he repeated, looking
with angry disgust at the young man,
who was huddled in a heap in a large
arm chair, trying vainly to sit erect,
with silly drunken grin on his face.
"Too hard! Why, if | turned him out
of the house this very night, and dis
owned him as my son, l should be
doing right! And you have kept this
from me? How could you, how dare
you, do it, and thus became RESPONSE
BILE for this disgrace? | might have
checked it. Now it's toolate. Look
at that idiotic tace; the stamp of the
drunkard who is past recovery is up
on it. It's too late!"
"Oh, don't, don't, Jamesp his wife
cried, kneeling beside him. 81 did it
for the best. Don't say it's too late!
He's but little more than a child yet,
and bad company has led him
astray."
The drunken boy laughed idiotical-
ly.
"Don't try and get him away"
Mr.. Forest said, sternly. "He shall
stay there all night, and l shall sit
up with him. You heard what he
saidp With bitter laugh. "Our
son is not only a drunkark, but a
thief. Let him stay there; l want to
get accustomed to the disgrace
which has come upon me, and anight
with that object before me will help
me to realize it. Do you go to bed.
/ must take his management out of
your weak hands"
"You won't drive him away,
James? You'll give him a chance?
You'll give him one opportunity to
try to reform? Don't turn him out
into the wicked world, to be lost for
everl" she pleaded, with sobs. Her
husband did not immediately answer
her but at last he said:
81 will not drive him away yet.
He shall have one chance more-a
single one. I'll make him understand
that, when he can understand any
thing. Now leave me with him."
The poor mother crept weeping to
her bed. She left the door partly open
between the rooms, that she might
watch both husband and son. Mr..
Forrest sat rigid and motionless, as
il he was carved in stone, but the boy
slept on heavily. Towards morning
he began to move uneasily in his
seat, then raised his head from the
table and Strengthened himself up.
The mother. whose eyes bad not
closed through the whole of that
long night, could almost see the ter
rified expression in his eyes when
they fell on his fathers grim figure
opposite. He rose unsteadily to
his feet.
"Stop, STRIP said the father, walk
ing to him. 81 have q few words to
say to you"
What was said was in too low
O. voice for Mrs. Forrest to
hear. There were a few brief
questions, and when David
answered one of them, he hung his