Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1895-09-07

the woodshed door. Behind the gladiator
rose the forebidding background of a stark
mountain range; but to her astonshed and
Unlicensed sight her son seemed greater
than the mountain, and more compelling
than its peaks. From that hour his whis-
per was her law; and from that day-for
now could the adoring mother help telling
her quarterly caller all about the heifer?-
isaac had no more wrestling matches In
the valley.
August burned into September, and Sep
TENDER, triumphant in her procession of
royal coiors, marched into October. the
month of months. Mrs. Masters had al
ready completed her pathetic preparations
Tor her sons departure. There, in the fam
lily carpet bag, which his father had carried
with him on his annual trip to Portland.
were slowed half dozen pairs of we'll
dsrned wooden stockings, the few decent
shirts that Isaac had left, his winter fan
neis, which had already served six years,
his comb and brush, a hand mirror that
had Dee1 one of his mothers wedding pres
eats, likewise couple of towels that had
formed part of her self-made trosseau;
and we must not forget the neckties that
Abb!e had sewed flom remnants of her
dresses, and which Isaac naively considered
masterpieces of the haberdasher's art.
At the mouth of the deep bag Mrs. Mas
tiers tucked Bible which fifty years ago
had been presented to her husband by his
Sunday school teacher a prize for regular
attendance. This Inscription was writ N in
waver.ng hand upon the blank page:
IN the eighth year of the reign of Josiah.
while he was yet young, ne began to seek
after the God of David his father. .
Chron. 81 g."
For" SAID Mrs Masters softly to Abbie,
after she had read the inscription aloud,
and had patted the book affec:ionately,
this is the first prize my josiah ever had,
an the Lord knows he thought more on it
tnan he did of Lucy, his mare. An if there
should happen any accident to Isaac they d
find by opening of his bag that eff he was
alone in a far country he Christian,
nor ashamed of it, neither
Isaac had only money enough saved up to
take him as far as Boston, and to board
him in the cheapest way. for several days.
canr'
1t is just such country lads as this
strong, self-reliant religious--who, when
poverty has projected them out of her
granite mountains upon granite pavements
each as hard and bleak as the other-by
massive determination have conquered a
predestined success.
Too soon, for those who were to be left
beh.nd, the day of separation came. Mrs
Masters haggard face and Abbie's red eyes
told Of unuttered misery.
But Isaac did not notice these signs of
distress. He was absorbed in mis- future
THe last hustle was over, the last breakfast
gulped down amid forced smiles and ready
tears, the last button sewed on at the last
IN oment; and now Mrs. Masters lunch of
mince pie. apples and doughnuts was ten
derby tucked into the jaws of the carpet
bag, thereby disturbing a love letter that
Abb:e had hidden there. A young neigh
Dor had volunteered TO drive Isaac down
the mountain to the station.
''All aboard! Hurry up. fket" cried this
young person, consulting his silver watch
and casting look of mingled conmisera-
ticn and envy upon The giant, locked in the
arms of the two women, who hardly reach
ed TO the second button of his coat. Isaac
caught the glance and started to tear him
self away. But his mother laid her gnarled
hand gently upon his arm, and led him into
the unused parlor.
Just minute, Abbie dear, I want to
be alone with my boy" she waved the
girl back. Then you can have him last.
It's my right an your'n.'
She closed the door and led him under
the crayon portrait of his father, framed
in immortelles. She raised her arms, and
neck.
Isaac" she said hoarsely, II amt no
longer young nor very strong. Remember
fore you go away from the farm that
you're the s1n of an honest man an
pious woman, and"-dropping with great
solemnity into scriptural language, Il be-
seech you my son not to disgrace your
godly name"
With partings like this the primitive
Christians must have sent their sons into
the whirlwfnd of the world.
Then Isaac broke for the first time, and
with the tears streaming, he lifted his
her and kissed her. Mother trusts you,
key was all she could say. But his
tina had come. There was a crunching of
wheals
Now go to Abbie. Leave me here!
Goodbye, you have always been a good
boy, dear" Mrs. Masters voice sank into
a whisper; the strong man. moved as he
was, could not comprehend her exhaus-
ton.
Abbie was waiting for him at the door,
AMI he went to her. The impatient wagon
had gone down the road. They were to cut
through the pasture and meet it at the
brock. There they were to part.
They clasped hands. Isaac turned. A
gaunt, gray face, broken, helpless, hopeless,
peered out beneath the green paper shade
of the parlor window. If he had known
twitched his hand. and the cloud scattered.
Down the hill they ran, down, until the
brook was reached. There they stood,
painting, GREATNESS, listening. There were
oniy few minutes left, and they hid be-
hind an oak tree and c1asped
1t was long after dark when the train
came to its halt in its vaulted terminus.
road delayed it until after 0. However,
this did not discomfort Isaac Masters. He
hurried out to the front of the station,
where tn. row of herdics greeted him
savagely. Carrying his fathers old carpet
bag, he looked from his faded hat to his
broad toes the ideal country pumpkin; yet
his head was not turned by the rumblng
of the pavements, the whizz of the cleo
tries, the blaze Of the arc lights, nor by
the. hectic inhalations that seem to COM
prehend all the human restlessness of a
city just before it retires to sleep His
breath came faster, and his great chest
rose and fell: these were the only indica-
tions of acclimation. Isaac had started
q a.