Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-01-16
THE SAME OLD CAT.

of silence Upon Ills Return Home.
 I am reminded of a certain willful | b0y--(we have all either known or been | just such . one)-an aggrieved, unap- | preciated boy. who grew to dislike his own home very much, and found his parents not at all up to the standard of his requirements as a son and disci- | plinarian. So he brooded sullenly over his disheartening surroundings and lim- itations; and, of course, knowing the outside world would afford him advan- tages never to be found at home, he lit out one morning before breakfast; and, climbing over the back fence, and bit terly shaking his fist at the wood pile he vanished himself away" down the turnpike. Yes; he had at l ast put into ton his long-muttered threaten ings. He had run away from home!
 His parents, at the discovery of his flight, bore up first-rate-especially the father. Possibly he had been a much abused boy himself sometime, and di- vined that even then his wayward son was disporting himself in the delights of the mming-hole-where, in re- ality, he was, and where he stoically re- mained throughout the day-save at one furnishing interval in which he sneaked far enough away to raid a neighboring orchard. The other boys went home at dinner-time-but he, alas! he had no home! At least he tried to think these very words, and with very bitter irony; but his lip trembled frequently that long, long feverish afternoon, and there was getting to be knotted, rigid sort of an aching spot in his throat that seemed to hurt worse when he didn't notice it than when he did. It was a very curious, self-assertive, opinionated sort of a pain. But he wrestled with it, and swallowed at it until almost dark; then, with the last struggling crowd of his companions, he moved trepidly toward home, or, rather. oozed that way, with loathful, hesitating, re- luctant, late-election returns character istic, somewhat heightened perhaps by the inward resolve of chopping an arm. full of wood as he went in by way of the kitchen. And he did this; but the hired girl, who was washing the supper dishes made noecomment of any kind. He ranged through the pantry with ap- parent carelessness, but the cupboard was locked. He went out to the porch. where, at least, the pump met him kindly and shook hands with him, and he drank long and deep to their more enduring acquaintance. The backyard, in the settling gloom, was lonesome, but it looked good, and the lightning bugs. against the grape-vines, blinked at him with kind of sallow gladness over his return. His heart was soften ing. He walked thoughtfully to the rain-barrel at the corner of the house and peered in it at the few faint stars reflected there. Then, moved by some strange impulse, he washed his feet.
 He then went into the house and on straight into the room where sat his parents by the evening lamp. The father was intently reading the paper, the mother intentfy sewing. Neither looked up at his entrance, even TO- proachfully, and neither spoke. The boy drew long, quavering sigh, and sat down on the remote edge of chair. All was still in the room for a long time-very still; but every thing seemed so kind, and restful, and old fashioned, and homely, and kin to him! Only if somebody would say some thing -or come and box him; anyhow!-any thing Why, Lord bless 'em. wasn't he there, ready to gratefully accept any thing from them? But that, silencel If the clock would only strike, and drown the whispering, sitting sound of | the katydids outside in the dewy grass. From afar off, down some alien street, he heard the faint hal- loo of the boys at their nigl tly game of "town-fox," with no desire whatever to be participant in their sport-no, never again in the world! He just wanted to stay in of nights-right there at home-always. He coughed- hoarsely, too-and shifted his position but no vaguest parental notice or
 solicitude in response-no word-no look. O, it was very still. He couldn't
 just remember any prior silence that at all approached 1t in point of such pro
 fundity of death and density ot hush. | And he felt that he himself must break
 it, so, summoning every subtle artifice of seeming nonchalance and old-time ease and naturalness to his aid, and
 gazing pensively at the cat, curled in its wonted corner of the hearth, at last
 he spoke out airly and said: q see you've got the same old cat."-Indian- apolis Journal.