Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1890-09-04

can do no more and must go now. MAY
the blessing of God the Father, the love of
God the Son, and the help of God the
Spirit 60 with you now.
She turned rapidly away and was quick
ly out of sight. leaving the priest little
bewildered at receiving SO solemn bless
ing from a lady AMI stranger. and yet
with the feeling that there was nothing
unsuitable nor unbecoming in her Civ
ing it,
Before, however, he had time to col
| lect thought or explain to himself what
he really felt about it all, the door was
| opened by a stout, comfortable serv-
ant, who seemed rather astonished at his
appearance. L have been summoned to a
dying bed, he said; pray take me at
once to the room.
The woman looked perplexed, and an
swered: There amt no dying beds here,
nor hasn't been this long time. Thanks
| be to Heaven, we are all well in this house.
sirl''
There must be some mistake, p" replied
Father Warren, ''for was conducted here
by lady who fetched me herself to the
very door, and was in much anxiety and
haste
There's no lady got no right to fetch
any one here anu mistake there surely is, ="
said the woman, rather testify; but look
ing at the priest and recogized his holy
character, she went on: But you had
better come in and explain it to the young
master-for sure | am he wouldn't like a
beggar turned from the door on a cruel
night like this, let alone holy man like
you, as is we'll known to the poor and
needy" So saying, she led the priest in
to to most comfortable room, WHARF, was
seated a young man evidently waiting for
| dinner, preparations for which were on
the table.
This reverend gentleman has been led
astray, sir, by some visiting lady, and
brought out of is 'ome, where better he
would have been on night like this. as
| rampaging the streets to come to 'ouse
where dying beds there is none, and moth
ing but health and comfort, the Lord be
praised. But | knew as you would not
wish him sent away, sir, for the sake of
her as is gone, and perhaps you can put
him in the way to find the right 'ouse.
the young man smiled, evidently well
accustomed to the ways of his faithful old
servant, and. rising courte0usly, led Father
Warren to seat by the blazing fire.
"Why, you are wet through and through"
he said. AT least let me take off your
| cloak, and rest little, while you tell me
how | came to have the honor Of this
visit"
The father could not withstand the genial
greeting, and sitting down, told the
young man how he came there. As ne
tried to do this, however, he found himself
quite at a loss to explain the impression
the lady had made on him, and how pow
erless he felt to resist her imp 0rtunity, or
even TO question her as to where she was
| leading him.
His host Was grieved and concerned at
the useless fatigue and exposure he had
gone through, and said: Il fear YOU have,
in your ready self-sacrifce, given way too
easily to some charitable lady, more zeal
GUS than judicious, who, in her desire to do
much, has, tonight at least, done too
much, and made mistake in an addres
which we can neither of us now rectify"
Father Warren shook lis head sadly, for
he felt how com parativejy he had failed to
represent truly his calm and dignified
visitor, and he sighed as he thought how,
after all, her mission had failed.
81 shall not let you GO out again till you
are thoroughly warm and fed" said the
young man; 'and you must just console
yourself by the thought Of the kindness you
are doing in sharing my lonely dinner, and
IN giving me tie pleasure of your company
on such dismal night as this
The WORKOUT hungry man yielded to
the cordiality and heartiness of the bright
youths manner, and soon they were to-
Gether as though they were old friends.
They seemed drawn toward each other in
some mysterious way, and their hearts
were opened, and they spoke as neither
had done for years.
Il once belonged to your church," said
the lad in rather sad, regretful tones; but
| belong to no church now. Since my dear
mother died, nothing seems of real inter
living in any state she would find some
itself could bring no joy to her if were shut
outside; And, indeed, it is much the
same with me, for have tried every kind
of life to forget my lonliness, but every
thing becomes dreariness without her. and
have found no one to fill her place.
NAY, not so, dear boy said Father
everything faith and patience and
perfect submission, with forgetfuIness of
self, the only thing that can bring you
peace and content"
Il do not want peace, replied the boy
- for he was little more in his impetuous,
loving healt-''l want happiness, want
my mother, | want my old full life back
again. cannot be sure that she is living
anywhere, in any condition, and has for
gotten her only child, her boy. her COM
panion. and her friend. My father died
suddenly of heart disease before I was
horn, and my mother and | were all in all
to each other; we had not a thought apart.
No! she is dead indeed gone forever
Dust and ashesi and the sooner | am the
same. the sooner will the aching of my
heart be stopped, and useless life be
Overt"
Father Warren was deeply moved by the
passionate cutlery and evident sincerity of
the lads grief His mother had been
dead for three years. and he had not al
lowed anything to be touched or altered
in the old house. He could not bear any
change in her arrangements, and her
books and work lay about as if she were
still living presence there.
As they talked together it become cyl
dent that the young man had drifted into
disbelief of all kinds, and was tossed about
on that dreary sea- forlOrn and hopeless.
1t would not become me to try and re-
peat the powerful arguments and loving
pleadings used by the faithful servant of
his Master to win back this lost soul.
The life of the priest was well known
to the la /, and he remembered in what
terms his mother had always spoken of
him. how she had told of rank and wealth
put aside by him, that he might the better
bring comfort and hope to the poor neg
lected people among whom he lived, and