The record-union. [volume] (Sacramento, Calif.) 1891-1903, 1897-07-25

~
white violets, maidenlrair fern friends
in shaded velvet, long, slender white
wings, and loops of mousseline de sole
Meeting Again.
(From the Danish of Zakarias Nielsen
by John VOlk.)
We owned cot with the sea in view;
For a living my father turned
Shoes out of wood; and a trifle, too,
By washing my mother earned.
I was but a small, a daring lad,
On the beach all day l strayed,
l swan and ducked and, rosy and glad,
In the shining sunbeams played.
o, happy those hours of long ago!
pity so quickly they passed.
Too early l found world of woe;
The days of sorrow came fast.
war broke out, and my father left,
One day, our land to defend;
In battle he fell, and, of him bereft,
On others we had to depend.
We lived on trust, our only relief
That, too soon stopped, and beside,
My mother dropped with sickness an6
grief;
Ere long in the poor-house she died.
And now with strangers my lot was cast
They themselves had little to spare;
In rags and tatters, each day that passed
Some one kicked me and pulled my hair
I worked and plodded on in my clogs;
In lying I soon found my joy;
L teased the children, fought with the
dogs,
And grew a. very bad boy.
1 was at war with the whole wide world
Made mischief wherever l could;
All seemed to hate me, names at me
hurled
All said that was no good.
''oh, wait! Some time I'll return each
In rage I oft used to whine;
You'll taste the fists that are sure to
grow
I had reached the age of sixteen years,
When wonder happened one day,
So that to me it clearly appears
That Providence guides our way.
One Sunday morning I left my home;
Though hungry, the richest meal
Could not lure me back. l would rather
roam
Through the land and beg or steal.
A villa [ reached: sweet lillacs in bloom
Tn front of ii covered the ground
/ sneaked my way to the draWlng-room,
But nowhere l heard sound.
Softly on tiptoe I walked the floor,
And looked and peered, like a spy,
In every nook till l stopped before
A picture that caught my eye
80, this is a dream I've lost my WITS
Our own little house by the seal
And there's my mother, she stands and
knits;
There's no mistakei 1t is she!
YES. that's my mother! Her lovely face!
Her mouth. and her eyes mild and blue,
The apron she wore on all holidays,
And her red-striped jacket, too.
''She looks at me! What is it that stirs
Within nv bosom, while kind
And pleasant thoughts and sayings OF
hers
Again are filing my mind?
II feel as if / had moved away,
Away to my childhood joys;
l see you, mother, watching me play,
And again l hear your voice
81 hear you calling me dear little chap,
l see how with motherly care
You used to hold me on your zap;
And kiss me and smooth my halr.
.eYour kindness how could I ever forget;
My soul must have been asleep
Dear little mother you must not lrel,
Because l stand here and weep.
81 feel it eases my heart to let
These tears burst forth, for they say
l might become a good fellow yet
If | saw you every day.
So. deeply moved I spoke and cried,
When a hand on my shoulder was iald.
Pale as a ghost to escape L tried,
A rush for the door / made.
But a friendly voice said: Don't be
afraid
Now | wish to have a word;
T
At the window | overheard.
1.-THE mother 1 heard you praising, so
And the home you thought so good,
| painted about ten years ago.
While | stopped in that neighborhood-
''And many here and from foreign iands'
Have called it splendid and fine;
But. so full of life as now 1t STANDS,
I ne'er saw that picture OF NINE.
you've put around it a frame of love
From memory's treasury, ana
IT gives it a value far above
What others can understand
And ever hereafter, twice as dear
AS before to me it will be;
Put tell me, my son. what brings you
here? -.
Is it me you have come to see?''
II know not" / said. Il know not why
I came. but while outside | stood,
7 vearned to go in. yes, to go IN ana try
If | could, if l could-yes, could
"Rut when l saw my mother was near,
And knew it would cause her pain,
T think twas God that brought me mere,
To meet with her once again.
She answered Yes, that might wei be
said,
And now Won had better stay
With her and let US thank God who led
You home when you went astray
Since then a good many years nave gone;
4 painter myself | became,
And like my teacher /. too, have won
A host of good friends and fame.
Rut next to Cod to my mother | owe
THAT ever l reached the mark;
She took nv soul, that had sunk so low,
To the sunlight out of the dark.
All cold. hardened thoughts, like ice and
snow
That melt in the sun and the rain.
Melted away with tears in the glow
OF love, when l met her again
New York Sun.
A Scorcher.
He-They have a saying now that all
the worlds wheel.
She-To be sure it is. And it's a
scorcher. too, whirling at the rate Of
more than 1000 miles an hour.-De-