Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1893-01-06

M MASS "I L"r NJ I T" ai s'""' H+' 6'S'~s't
mon in the pawn-shop heart. The young
mans face was haggard, and his clothes
were unkempt. When in his nervous
haste his hat fell off almost unheeded, and
she saw the dark curs that might have
been child's, her mothers heart throbbed
get again within her.
He had found what he sought in his
pocket, and with uncertain fingers was un-
rolling something from bit of tissue pa
| per- An exclamation broke from the wom-
ans lips as the covering was tore away. 1t
was miniature of a wOman-a beautiful
woman, a face "full of sweet records,
| promises as sweet" young face, face
which could not grow old. She did not
notice the rich jewels set about it, but
stood, murmuring,
"Weel, weel, sac bonny, sac winsome 7"
1t was as though a rare and lovely flow
er had been placed in her hand. But as
she murmured and exclaimed, the face of
the young man grew pale.
Don't" he cried, in sharp, painful
voice, and with sudden gesture, as
though he would take it back. Don't! [
can't bear it.-What will you give me for
it?"
She took the miniature in her hand rev.
erently, almost as she might have touched
the beautiful young face, had it been there
beside her. She gazed at it earnestly-for
loneliness of this kind or of any kind
rarely came near her life-and then she
turned 1t over once and again. As she
turned it the second time, an inscription
on the back held her attention: "For my
little son, from his loving mother" She
read it aloud and the date that followed.
Yer mother?' she cried, "God's mer-
cy, ladl Yer mother-and we bring it
here?"
His hand had reached for it spasmod-
ically when she began to read, and now he
cried again:
Don't! Don't! Let me gor' and his
face grew rigid with pain.
''fe shall not got! exclaimed the wom-
an, with a great determination Weakening
in her eyes. aye shall not 90 and tax it
to some ither place-ye'r mother! But
sin We need siller, ye must aye let me gle it
We wi'out that. | am a mother, too" she
went on, half proudly, half pleadingly,
IAN If my ain BARN wad be but a wee lad
die now, still ken how it wad ha been wi
me had he parted wi aught. There! lad,
there!"
He had thrown his head down upon his
arms on the counter, and his frame shook
with mans dry sObs. The gentle touch
of her hand was on his hair and the COM
forting tones of her voice were in his ears,
speaking to him as though hS were a child.
Aye, lad, an yen tax IN sller an gae
back t her-there! there! An If we're
been wrang, why, there's mony day left
to fill wi guide, brave deeds, an there's
mony as I'll gle ye tn hand o. welcome
back. An she'll be sac glad = see We ;
her hand has been lonesome for tire touch
o. we, lad, and her eyes dim for tn sight
o. ye; an if ye'd been to tn mouth O.
hell, her luv wad still be yours, lad, |
ken, lad ken-because- am a mother"
a little breeze came in through the brok- I,
en- pane of the window and set the strings |
Of the old violin quivering. 1t stirred the !
folds OF the China Grape shawl, too. And |
still he stood with his head in his arms
upon the counter; and still her voice !
sounded in his ears.
Don't We ken that We are her ain, lad. |
her ain-and could she ever be happy wi |
ron ava frae her? / ken weei how she
ooks aye for ye at the IA O. the night, and |
tarts wi each step in the street, and won
iers where her lad is. Gae hOme to her,
ad, gaze home this vera nightr'
There was a tenderness in her voice, as
houSh she were pleading with her own I
10Y, and in her own heart was the anguish |!
u that other mother, The penS up love |
Il her lonely heart was spending itself in !
he service of this unknown son and meth
n. 1t found its way int0 the bewildered \
rain OF the boy, bringing TO him without
lis Will all the tender home memSuies that
lie had striven against. He almost Thought 4
he hand his mothers; anaithe le'Ve in the
-oice might well have been hers.
There was quietness in the little shop. 4
When he raised his head from his arms and !
himself, the feverisAluok had !
eft his face, and a treaaOr of hope was /
Irving from 1t the shadow of despair.
81 will do--wAat you say" he. said "I J
will go-tO my mother-to-nigllk."
She gave the miniature into his hands 4
gain. He put the bit Of paper about il |
enderly, and replaced it in his pocket. |
When she brought the money, he took it
rom her and only said:
81 will take it to get-to her. She will |
come and thank yOu-some day."
He raised her large, rough hand to his |
Ups; and then he left the shop. But he |
lid not see the faces in the crowded streets |
nor hear the noise of the great city, as he |
pushed on. He saw only the vision of his !
country home; he heard only the mothers !
voice whose tone had become almost lost
TO him in the discord of his life.
And in the dim and dingy street the
shadows deepened and the lamps were
lighted; and amid the gloom and babble,
behind the counter of the dusty shop--the
one with the three gilt balls--the childless
mother waited on.-NeI0 England Maya
zine.