The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1890-03-14
miscellaneous.
ChildhOOd'S Hapny Home,

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that time he was seventeen. He went away
to college expecting to return soon, but the
days heightened into months, the months
into years, but still he did not go back. He
graduated, and drifted to California, and
went into business. The fifteen years passed
rapidly. He wrote to his father and mother
often, but still he postponed his intended
visit.
Spencer Crane had an intimate friend
named Perry Martin. They had been in
college together and were in business side by
side Perry Martin had not seen the
home of his childhood for long space of
time, but one day he went back and remain
ed a month. When he returned he was full
of his visit.
spencer" exclaimed Perry Martin, as he
grasped his friends hand, Spencer, old boy,
| had glorious time, I've been back to the
place where was born, where 1 lived as
boy, and went to school, where ten thousand
tender memories of childhood cluster, back to
the place love better than any other on
earth"
did the old home seem natural p asked
Spencer Crane.
"Nes, perfectly so. The dear old house
where | was born looked little smaller, the
windows little narrower, the ceiling little
lower-in fact, many things seemed hardly
as large as they had to my boyish eyes, but
all was natural-it was l; not the scenes that
had changed" -
Perry, 1 believe envy you" said Spencer
Crane.
"Well you may" returned Perry Martin
Iwould have given ten years of my life rather
than have missed it. slept up in my little old
room where so many times have listened to
the patter of the rain on the roof And by
the house stood the same old oak tree with the
same old swing on it. The same old wood
bine clambered over the low gable end of the
house. and the moss was growing on the
shingles as of old. The old barn stood there
with the swallows quarrelling and scolding
under the caves just as they used to. Inside,
the NOW was packed full of new hay, and be-
low the horses reached across the manger for
me to pat them. Outside was the old well
with the clumsy old sweep for drawing the
water, and the trough made from the hollow
log where the horses stopped to drink when
they came in from the field. The same old
willow dropped over the well. Out in the
lot back of the barn was the old pasture with
the lazy, contented cows cropping the grass
and clover or lying in the shade of the great
elms, and chewing their cuds. Beyond were
the foolish, laundering calves with their large
soft eyes, and near by the timid sheep
Down the road half mile was the old mill
where had played so many happy hours, and
the brook, with glimpses of rightened trout in
the pools. Then visited the little old red
school house which had attended, and saw
the happy children on the old playground
where had played so many times myself
went over in the old woods and climbed
the hill where had gathered nuts. / stood
long by the style over the old rail fence
where l had often met pretty Mary Morrison
in the old days. Alb, Spencer. that was my
first love-and best. l saw the little white
stone that marks her resting place in the old
churchyard. Spencer, if you want to know
what pure, though to be sad happiness is, 60
back and visit the old home again, as have
done, where all is peace and quiet and con-
tentment, and the mean and sordid world is
far away" .-.
Perry" cried Spencer Crane, grasping the
others hand, II will do i'll will start for my
dear old home tomorrow"
Spencer Crane was born and had passed
his youth in New York City fiat. -r.
The next day, true to his resolution, we
find him on his way to visit the dear old home
of his childhood. Four days later he rolled
into the Grand Central Station. He leaped
into a cab and twenty minutes later was in
the old neighborhood 1t was of brick, seven
stories high, with ample air shafts and facili-
ties for drying clothes on the roof. His dear
old home was on the fifth floor. He pulled
a miniature pump-handle on the wall and
listened at the speaking tube. "Who is it ?"
came the inquiry in shrill voice. "Me-
Spencer" he answered. The door opened
convulsively and he entered the neighbor-
hood.
The dear old janitor stood in the hall and
watched him as he went up the stairs as if he
thought he was burglar or perhaps pick
Tha or ont into ahOrf
flights, so there were sixteen of them to
climb before he got home. AS he walked on
through the old familiar scenes of his child
hood he heard woman in one fiat telling
another how she could make over her black
skirt so as to deceive the public, and caught
the sounds of another woman's voice speak
ing earnestly TO her husband because he had
failed to get theatre tickets. On the third
floor there were two men talking politics, and
he heard three pianos and banjo. The rich,
melodious laugh of a man who was telling a
| funny story floated to his ear, and on the
fourth floor he met pretty little girl six
years old who was eating piece OF bread
and butter with molasses on it. She ate the
breat and butter, and wiped the molasses on
| Spencer Cranes trousers. "Dear old sounds
and scenes" murmured Spencer. How
natural it all seems. Once more | am near
my birthplace"
When he got to within about 6 feet of his
old home he could see it, and his parents
were standing in the door. He tenderly en-
braced his mother and grasped his fathers
hand "Come into tue old home where you
were born. my boy" said his mother Come
in, and welcome to you Besides they have
got the measles in the next fiat and you have
never had them" Spencer Crane went into
the old homestead.
Before visit with you let me look over
the old home," said Spencer Crane. This
is the same dear old sitting-room."
eyes," answered his mother, ''the same old
room" wv"
How natural it looks 10 see the easy-chair
up on the centre-table," said Spencer.
Eyes, we still have to put it up there to
make room enough to open the door," an
swered his mother. but see there is that
corner, Spencer, where you spent so many
happy hours playing when boy"
ayes, and this corner, too, my boy" said
his father. ....
"True, true" answered Spencer Crane
''and there are the other two corners. All,
the dear old corners. But tell me, father,
does the man in the fiat above still split kind
ling wood on the floor at midnightl
yes, and he has got heavier axe. The
girl we heard the young man proposing to in
the fiat below the night you went away ID