Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1892-10-15

time" and he glanced around the COM
Portable room contemptuously.
When he finished speaking, a
mothers hand was laid on his arm,
and mothers voice, pitiful in it's sor-
row. said:
Don't go, Tom. Your father don't
mean it. He is angry because you
make him so much trouble. Ask him
to forgive you'll am sure he will, if
you will only try to be better boy"
"Never!' sternly interrupted the
deacon; che is no son of mine, and my
house is no longer his home. Go, sir!
Do you hear?"
"You need not tell me twice." re-
turned the boy. "Good-by, mother; I'm
going" and before they realized it,
their eldest son had passed out of the
home life forever.
After that, life went on about as
usual at the Chandler farm. The deacon
still offered his accustomed prayer,
only now there was no Tom to make
fun of him, for since that night Tom
Chandler had not been seen. Deacon
Chandler was still waiting for his OPP
portunity, and still wondering, too,
why chance so earnestly desired was
so long withheld. Others all about him
were doing great things toward build
ing up the kingdom, yet, search and
wait as he would, nothing ever came in
his way.
So tho time went on for eight or ten
years, until one day Deacon Chandler
awolSe suddenly to the fact that his
wife was slowly but surely dying. His
love for his wife was one Of the things
that no one doubted, and when he no
ticed how pale and thin she had be-
come, he spoke to her at once, in an
unusually anxious way.
SIS there anything can do for you,
wife?" he asked.
"No-1 don't know as there is."
SIS there anything you want?"
Her eyes filed with tears
shall tell you?" she whispered.
"Yes--do."
Sadly and firmly she told him the
whole pitiful story.
81 want my boy. 1 want Tom to
come back to me. He was my first
born, and l cannot forget how l loved
him when he was a baby in my arms.
Yes, and when he grew to be boy, 1
loved him still. and my love could have
saved him. But you-you were so cold
and hard with him. Conscious of your
own virtue, you could not pity his in
trinity and bear with him as 1 would
have done. No, hear me out" as he
would have spoken. "You have always
prayed-prayed to the Lord for an op-
portunity to do some great good, and
when it was here, in your own son, you
neglected it. You might have been
more gentle; you might have led him
out of his evil ways; but you would
not, and all these years my heart has
been aching for a sight of my SONNY
eldest born"
The words came sharp and fast now,
and ended in smothered sob.
The deacon was surprised. Never
before had his wife questioned his wis
dom, or censured him for anything he
did. But the mother love so strong in
her had welled up and filled her heart
to overtlowing, and she must be heard
Her words had their effect, too, for
Deacon Chandler saw, as he had never
seen before this, his mistake, and the
hypocrisy of the fervept prayer he had
so often breathed out to his Heavenly
Father. How often had he addressed
the Deity as his merciful Father, when
he was an unmerciful, nay, a cruel
parent. How he had prayed for an OPP
portunity of doing good, and when it
came, let it pass, nay thrown it away
willfully. He was man of few words,
and those he spoke now carried healing
balm to the heart of the woman who
had halted so long between wifely duty
and motherly love.
II have been wrong, wife; can you
forgive me?"
"Oh freely, freely" she answered
him.
He read in her wistful eyes the un-
spoken wish, and answered it.
~ will find our boy and bring him
home," he said.
"And no matter how sinful he is, or
how he has fallen, you will bring him
home to his u.other?"
~ WILL" and she was satisfied
To those who wish to learn, all
things are plain, and Deacon Chandler
traced his son, by constant effort, to a
small western city. Of the fact that he
was there, he became convinced, but
could learn nothing more. A week
found him standing in the railway sta
ton of the city of c., inquiring of
the bystanders if they knew Thomas
Chandler
"Know Tom Chandler? Wall, reck-
on do" drawled one loafer, who was
warming himself in the sun.
Can You tell me where l shall find
him?" asked the deacon.
"Wall, / kinder reckon about this
time er day he's ter be found over to
the Senter house."
Having learned where the Senter
house was, Deacon Chandler walked
slowly up the main street of the we'll
kept western city. How should he find
Tom? He inferred from the manner of
the man with whom he had just talked
that his son was still the wild young
man he had turned from home so many