The Somerset reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1868-1909, 1892-02-18
SELECTED.
The Now Years Message.

1t was New Years Eve The family a
he parsonage was gathered in the library,
about the great fireplace, talking, laugh
ing and telling stories. Now and then u
pause would come in the talk. The soft
swish of the snow driven by the wind
against the panes, the cracking of the
pine logs as they burnt out their sturdy
lives in the fireplace, and the steady tick
tick of the great hall clock were the only
sounds that broke the stiffness. Then the
faces about the fire would grow thought
full. The smile would die away from the
lips of the two young girls, sitting orpo-
site the older people The ilrelight, play
ing upon the mothers face, would shine
cow and then upon bright, glistening
tear. which rolled gently down the soft
old cheek, and then the silence would be
broken by loud "a hem from the Par
son, as, with sympathetic look on his
kindly face, he reached over to touch bis
wife's hand, and thus wake her from her
reverie.
Each one Of this little family group
knew why these pau 'es came in the midst
of the talk and laughter. Each, by some
chance word or action, was reminded OF
the one who should have been there and
was not; of the boy who at the fist call
had gone to Eight for his country, and
who now, 10 years after the war, was
missing. The news of his death had new
er reached them. After one of the great
battles they had read in the Northern pa
pers his name amongst the names of
those missing but later, when the miss
ing were accounted for by second list
Of dead, or captured by the enemy, :"
they had not found the name of their boy
The girls remembered but indistinctll
this brother, so many years older than
themselves. They could not wholly for
get the great, teasing, kind fellow who
used to be their plague and their hero, yet
they remembers d him less as reality in
their own lives than as the big brother OF
whom they so often heard their mother
4pesk. She, poor woman, remembered
perhaps too well this only son, whom she
lad resigned so willingly to her country,
vet for whom her country had never given
an account She had sorrowed for him,
vet she had not borrowed without hope
''He may not have died. she would often
say with a sad smile to her husband, a.
they sat together in the library OF long
winter evenings; 'perhaps he may yet
come back" But the ParsoD, after those
first weary months of uncertainty, had
never for moment let himself trust 10
any such false hope. Since the boy
did not come to us, he must have died, -"
he would say to himself; che died, though
for his country And as the last thought
came to him. the old mans gentle eyes
would tighten and CLEAN proudly for al
instant; then turning to his wife, he
would say, kindly, Il am afraid not, my
dear, but perhaps he may, adding To
himself, why should destroy the great
est comfort that woman can have
Hope"
As the fsmily group sat in the library,
on this New Years Eve, laughing and
making merry over the tales which the
Parson told of the Old Years death and
New Years birth, or pausing now and
then to think of the lost soldier boy, a
ring came at the door-bell. a hope none
Of the parish is ill.," the mother said,
quickly. Run, child, you know the ser
wants are out tonight One of the girls
ros hastily and left the room. Soon she
returned, her eyes glistening with excite =
ment and happy smile on her face. ~
gentleman to see you papa, a-a-cty
gentleman, and he wouldn't give his name
and do go-he's In the study
The Parson, smiling indulgently at the
pleasure and excitement which the arri-
val of a "city gentleman" caused in the
simple life of his Ii tie country bred child.
rose and left the room, shutting the door
behind him. The mother started; her