The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1890-05-17

| Perhaps the old man is SICK, or deau.
| They remembered then that he had
not been seen, and they followed the
dog home, there to find it was as they
F., feared, and that the old man was SICK.
He lay on a poor bed of straw and leaves
and tossed about with fever.
They entered very quietly and talked
in low whispers so as mo- 10 disturb him,
but his quick ears caught the sound of
their footsteps, and attempting to shrink
away from them, he put out his wasted
hand as if to stay their approach.
mo, no." he said. 81 will not 60 with
you. l will not be locked up as a pauper
where there are no flowers or birds, anu
no green fields and no beautiful forests
l am going home directly, and they can
not send me away again. Go away now
and let me 90 on, for the journey is not
long and l am in hurry to get there"
Poor old man." some one said; "he is
Eighty, and talks of unseen things"
The little dog came in and laid his
head in the old mans hand. The tired
eyes opened for a moment and soft
smile spread over the thin, sallow face.
1--WE are almost there, Sanch, almost
there" the old man said, as he tried to
pat the dogs head. at has been long
Journey, and the way has been rough,
and sometimes the storms ragged high,
but we are nearly through it now, and
in a little while we will be at home.
There is but another hill or two to climb
| and then we shall see the dear old place
with the meadows all in bloom and the
trees green with leaves, and we shall
hear the birds sing as they used to be-
fore we came away. They won't drive
us off now as they did then, but we will
live in the old house and wander about
the garden and orchard every day, and
when we are tired we'll go down and
rest beneath the big tree where we used
to go of evenings when the days were
warm. Well soon be there-soon be
there"
Then the eyes closed and the old man
was quiet.
"He is asleep" some one said. "see
| how he smiles as he reaches out his
hands. lie is dreaming sweet dreams"
For long time they stood about the
old man and watched him in silence.
Once or twice his lips moved as if in
speech, and the smile on his wasted face
grew brighter. Then again his eyes
opened and their gaze wandered about
the little room.
81 thought we were there" he said,
little disappointed. 81 thought we had
reached the end of the journey and were
resting on the blue grass under the big
tree down by the meadow. l smelt the
clover blossoms and the wild roses, and
heard the birds singing in the tree
overhead. and the water as it flowed
along over the white stones on it's way
down from the big spring up under the
three old elm trees. But it is not far,
and we shall be there before night comes
on. Come, now, and let's be going for
we have another hill to climb, and |
am anxious to see the dear old place"
| He was still again for minute or two,
but no one looked up to disturb him.
| "Ah?' he said at last, as the smile
| faded from his features and look of
doubt and trouble succeeded it. ''What
if they will not let US come in? What
if they drive us away again as they did
before? But they can not be so cruel as
that. No, no; l will tell them that we
have come long way and have walked
many, many days to get back to the old
home, and they can not be so cruel as to
turn US away. l will tell them how
we'll love it. and of all the fond men,
cries l have of it, and they will be
touched by that and not drive us away
any more. l will tell them of her
of my dear, poor Marian, who came to
live with me in the old house. | will
speak to them of the times when she
and | used to go arm-in-arm about the
big pasture, and of the times when we
sat on the long porch and dreamed and
planned for the future. l will tell
them how we'll she loved the flowers
and the birds, and how often we
wandered about gathering the roses
and the ferns l will tell them all this,
and of the day she died, and l will ask
them to let me stay at the old home, so
l can go every day and plant flowers
on her grave. They will not drive us
off when tell them this"
HE is dying" somebody said, in
soft whisper.
Yes, he is nearing the end of his
journey, Gue uoCGOr replleu, as ne DenG
over the old man. ''Does anyone know
| any thing of his life?"
No one spoke.
Then the door opened softly and
stranger entered. Leaning forward and
bending over the apparently lifeless
FORM the stranger looked on the haggard
face for some time, then raising himself
| he muttered:
| st is he"
A minute passed and they all waited
in silence. The stranger did not speak,
and the doctor touching his arm asked:
"What do you know of him?"
'He is my father. Years ago went
away from home and soon after my
mother died. Then there came trouble,
and those nearly related to him set to
work to rob him of his home. He was
old and easily persuaded, and after
time they got a deed to his property,
and then they drove him out. They at
tempted to confine him in pauper's
home, but he ran away, and for years
he has wandered about the country.
From the day learned his fate have
searched for him in every direction.
Sometimes heard of him being some
where, but always long time after he