The Bossier banner., 1893-11-23
NEVER TOO LATE.
How the Old Folks Proved the
Adage a True One.

It was decided at last The home
place would have to be sold, for none of
the boys were willing to lift the mort
gage-wouldn't pay, they said-and the
father and mother would have to end
their days apart.
Because" said Matilda, the young
est, lit wouldn't do for any one of us to
try to take care of them both together
We've always had to live in the quarrel
and jangle ourselves and to have the
example of 1t before our children would
be downright SIM"
Jane, the older daughter, said moth
ing, but she thought to herself that if
her husband were worth as much as
Matilda S was she would take both par
ents to her home and risk the. example
they might set for the third generation.
But ever since Matilda had first
lisped her voice had settled family mat
ters, and so father was to go with Jane
to the city and mother to move over to
the great red brick farmhouse which
was Matilda's home.
Mother Will be right handy about
the work" Matilda said to her hus band,
when he showed some inclination to
object. And there isn't better hand
in the country with children. We won't
lose anything"
So the September morning came
when the couple who had never parted
in fifty years bade each other fare
we'll, much rs mere acquaintance
would have done.
Father, dressed in his best clothes,
muttered ''Good-by" in a defiant sort
of way and hobbled out to the spring
wagon, while Jane paused to kiss the
little old woman who sat looking out
OF the window in an Indifferent way.
'Eood-by, mother. hope you will
be happy with Mat. Won't you come
to the door and see father Off"
OIL dunno as it's wuth WHILE" re-
turned the old lady, and then Jane, too,
was gone.
When sne was sure the spring wagon
was out of sight Mrs Paine put on her
gingham bonnet and walked over to
the cemetery just up the hill.
The graves where she paused were
not well tended-no engraved stones
marked their places and the grass was
cut away only enough to outline the
mounds. Two were small, those of in
fants; one was that of mans size, and
tney were all her children, two daugh-
ters and one son. The son was her old
est child and he would have been
1orty-elght or forty-nine years old now.
He had died while studying for the
ministry. She had seven children liv-
ing, but in her times of trouble aud
sorest trial she had always wandered
over to this sacred spot ever since it
was first made thirty years ago.
To-day she sat down in the sun-dried
grass and cried for some time.
He might a-said something more"
she sobbed to herself. And then she
neard Matilda calling and hurried back
to the house.
The months passed slowly. At Christ
mas time there was some talk of re-
union, but the talk did not materialize.
=, Letters came from Jane saying IA
.ner was tolerably contented, but missed
MS loating place at THE Corners"
ne sent his regards to mother Jane
always added that of her own accord.
lof father never sent any word to any,
one But when Matilda answered the
o,u mother always told her to inquire
after fathers health and to send her re-
spects.
II was one warm day in March that
ene lttle old lady's cup seemed full to
osernowlng. Matilda had gone to town,
ana the children We're unusually quar-
Ieisome and boistrous. The grand
mother had reproved them mildly, and
~ iast She spoke little sharply.
brothers and sisters shouldn't
"rangie the hull time! You ort to say
ueoent word to one nuther onct in
awhile, anyways" she said,
hue Lucy the chief eulprit tossed her
ssaa sisdaiatullE