Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1891-03-28

SlNEs
where and everywhere else; but on
Good Friday some impulse which she
could neither control nor explain con-
quered her former reluctance, and, to
the surprise of the many who knew
her, the shrinking figure in it's heavy
black draperies dropped once more into
the seat which memory made at once so
dear and dreadful.
For several minutes she refrained
from looking toward the choir, then
nerving herself as for some terrible
ordeal, she looked suddenly and direct
ly at the place which was to know her
brave, sunshiny little son no more, and
looking, she met the direct, sympathetic
gaze of eyes so like his that strange,
sweet comfort stole into her bereaved
heart.
A smaller natured woman might
have resented poor little Anthony al
together; but in the gamut of Mrs. Scott
Payne's being there were few, if any,
insignificant notes, and certainly not
one of that problematical few happened
to be struck on this solemn fast day
which was to mark new era in her
life. Perhaps, indeed, leaving Antho-
ny out of the question altogether, there
is no service which does so wholly
subdue egotism and littleness as that
of Good Friday, and, as each one of our
Sayiour's last words was successfully
dwelt upon, this poor mourner felt her
self creeping little closer to the cross.
She had never been either hard or
rebellious mourner at any time; but
Johnnie had been the last great joy left
to life which had known much sor-
row, and she had found it impossible to
realize greater anguish than that of
parting with him, until, in that solemn
MONDAY quiet she looked on Calvary,
and realized, as never before, what
that other mother must have felt to see
her stainless Firstborn stretched before
her on the cross-realized as never be-
fore the infinite compassion of the
Firstborn's entreaty: woman, be-
hold thy son!"
"Oh, if he would only say that to me-"
the sore heart murmured, chow thank
fully would obey him!'
And then again she looked at Antho-
ny and wondered inconsequently
whether the beloved disciple had borne
any outward resemblance to his master.
After the service she still knelt on,
until one by one the congregation be-
came dispersed, and there were left in
the church only herself, the organist
and two of the choir boys One of the
two she saw was her boys successor,
and with hungry intensity she watched
the little cassoclSed figure fitting noise
lessly about the chancel, then coming
down the nave, past the pew in which
she sat, until with unwilling steps he
reached the one great tragedy of his
life-a tragedy which had for its herald
a small boy, who, eager with impor-
tance, whispered hoarsely, yet distinctly
enough to reach even Mrs. Scott
Payne's ears:
"Tony, your mothers burst blood
vessel, or something. Anyway, the
blood's pouring out of her mouth, ana
the doctor says she may die any min
ute" .I
The path by which divine love leads us
| is often misty one to our mortal eyes,
but from that moment wounded hand
| seemed to point the way from that
| childless mother to that almost moth
erless child, and by and by, when
JOY and peace had come as the fruition
of obedience, it gave Helen Scott-Payne
unspealsable comfort to remember how
unfalteringly she had followed it from
the first.
II will take him." she said, as the
organist, the other choir boy and the
messenger bent over the limp little fig
ure which had fallen as though slain
before that cruel message. my car
riage is waiting and will take him
home. Mr.. Whiting has told ME all
about him. i know where he lives"
Thus, as one chapter of Anthony
Trainers life was finished, another one
began, and the poor young mother,
waiting to feast her dying eyes for the
last time on her only child saw at the