The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1892-12-21
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"And shrivel in the hypocritlcal
glare OF false friendship and hollow
pleasure?" he interrupted bitterly.
"No, sister | thank you, but quiet
corner for me. 1 am tired am
weary of all this show, vanity and
vain labor. Five years drudge, five
more a cynical, flint-hearted money
maker, and what is the recompense?"
His sister stared at him in amaze
ment. The recompense! Was the
man going mad? Wealth, social emf
neace, a proud name! What heights
could possibly lay beyond that pima
Gle of earthly grandeur and success?
Excuse me for tonight, pleaded
Penith. II am tired OF it all. Oh,
il out of it all l could extract one
grain of comfort, one genuine emo
tion OF enjoyment-something akin to
the Old boyish zest-something tangi-
ble,"
Something tangible. He dwelt on
the words at the stately dinner table.
They fingered with him as he tried
to settle down to quiet smoke in the
library. There arose in his mind
picture Of the past. 1t was poverty,
obscurity then: but Il thought Of the
bare-footed rambles through the
woods, of the real coZineSs OF the lit
tie attic-room back at the old home
stead, Of ambitions tinged with ideal
sentiment and glowing hopes, glori-
fed the years now dead.
He glanced from the window at
the dying day. Mournful, ineXpres-
sibly cold, repellant, unlovcly, seemed
the wilderness of stately mansions
and stiff, precise equipages on the
street without. How different the
dear cd village where he was born.
The narrow streets, its quaint homes,
its heart-warming people floated
across his vision now, and seemed
part OF another world.
1t was not so very far away That
little country town nesting among
the hills was only an hours ride from
the great metropolis. Was he getting
sentimental? What was this strange
impulse that lured him to steal
thither like a thief ashamed, and try
w w al III JDC liOLCh VI lilo
dreary life at the ashes of dead past?
All. the dear old town. How
natural it looked. The old red
school-house, the rickety depot, the
broad cOmmOn-once again, for the
first time in ten years, Richard Pen
rith trod his native soil that night.
He wandered about the place like
an uneasy ghost haunting the scenes
Of former experiences. He felt a
keen pang Of actual envy as ne peered
through the frost-crested windows Of
the homely village store, and saw its
proprietor, happy, serene, all one
glow Of perfect delight over the
gathering in of an extra few dollars
for holiday business. Why! a turn Of
stock in the city often meant for
tune. for him, and yet scarcely stirred
a nerve.
All heart, all sympathy, all human,
simple felicity! What a paradise,
compared to the dollhouse, superb
cial life Of the city! He paused as a
name spoken by bent, old man,
passing with companion, struck
MS ear WIN SnOcK.
ats. all Miss Naomi's doings, sir.
Bless her dear heart. She's nurscd my
wife back to health, she's got my boy
a situation, and we amt the first
that angel of charity has helped"
Miss Hewitt is a great friend to
the poor; yes"
Naomi - Miss Hewitt. Richard
Penrith stood stock still on the snowy
street. A slight flush surmounted
his brow, his eyes grew larger, then
tender.
Strange how he had forgotten her
stranger still that after all the
years the sudden recurrence Of that
once treasured name could stir his
nature as it had not been moved for
nearly decade!
He tried to smile at the memory Of
their boy and girl love, but failed.
Something choked him as he walked
on, and paused to peer through the
windows Of neat, pretty cottage.
Yes, there was the "best room"
brightly lighted, and old Mrs. Hewitt
seated knitting, surrounded by cozi-
ness and warmth. There was the
pretty rustic porch. How often he
had kissed Naomi goodnight under
the dew-spangled vines surrounding it.
All was the same, only the vines were
dead and dropping now, All was
the same. His heart gave great
bound as the vivid lamplight showed
little framed portrait on the wall;
his picture as he had been, treasured,
esteemed faithfully by the winsome
lass he had sacrificed to the cold,
cynical demands of gold.
He fell to wonderiD how Naomi
looked now. She was not visible
about the house, and he strolled re-
luctantly on, and passing people
stared suspiciously at him. He fol-
lowed the concourse. All, another
reminder Of the past, the old church,
its glowing portals an open welcome
to all the weary, and hungered, and
penitent.
He entered and glided to an OBJ
scure pew. 1t took him back ten
years. How certain watch-night
meeting one New Years Eve long
400 camp hack IN hiS mindt Naomi