The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1898-11-23

uniolueu IN ner sister land. Lily
talked in easy commonplaces until her
sister said:
''Now commence read every word. I"
'sDesr Father and Mother''-Aunt
Betsey put out OBTAINING hand.
'.wait minute, Lizy; read that over
again You see he hasn't forgotten; he
says dear father and mother Now
go on.H
And sothe letter was read with many
interruptions and comments.
When once more they were at home,
sitting side by side before the fire, they
discussed Jem's letter from beginning
to end. over and over, until both were
nodding in drowsy happiness. Aunt
Betsey was the fret TO Start up.
'Do you know, father she began,
with little break in her voice, "I've
always blamed myself for Jem's goin'
away. He just had common store
stockings that winter. You mind. My
hands were lame and couldn' knit
him any. N I've thought sometimes
if he'd had on stockings that knit
those boys couldn't have led him into
the saloons so easily, and all these
years of sorrow might have been diff
ferent."
Don't, mother, don't blame your
self. 1t was all because Jem was too
anxious 70 please everybody The old
man rambled on, fumbiing for excuses
for bis profiigate son. 'Twasn't be-
cause be was bad at heart. He was too
yood-hearted. Wasn't that il, mother I?
de couldn't offend any one"
Aunt Betsey nodded. "If 1 only
could send him some stockings that ]
knit, may be they'd help to keep his
feet from the paths Of destruction"
Uncle Matt frightened up. "Do,
mother OF course it would help him.
Then he stopped in dismay, for wife
was crying again. whats wrong
Haven't you the yarn?"
She shook her head, holding up the
the cylindrical strip she was working
on. "The last bit is in these wristers,
IA if / ravel them out there wouldn't
be more than enough to begin pair Of
stockings"
Uncle Mats hand instinctively
sought his pocket and searched hope
lessly for the money be knew was not
there. Then he went to the bookshelf
and drew from behind the books the
welI-worn purse. With g desponding
glance he replaced it, "There amt
anything we could sell?'' he suggested,
Frightening.
"No, nothing. Everything has gone
long ago. The spinning wheels went
Iirst, and then the old clock; every
Thing has been sold but"
Have you sold the foot stove?"
Aunt Bessey caught iief breath. ats
the only thing that's let of mothers. "
SIS that so? wouldn't have said
anything if had known that
There was little sleep for the anxious
mother that night, but with the morn
ing her spirits rose. After breakfast
she wrapped up the old-fashioned foot
stove and put the package in her hus-
bands hands. "You take that up to
Miss Deering. She said she'd give me
five dollars for it if l ever wanted to
sell it. Then go up to the store and get
me some yarn they know what kind
1 buy. Go quick, before / change my
mind"
Uncle Matt made no remonstraneer
for he knew the mother rejoiced in the
sacrifice she was making for her son.
The pang of parting with her treasured
relic would be forgotten long before the
stitches for the first stocking were cast
on the shining needles. On, the warmth
from that little old foot stove, and the
strength Of the hardy pioneer lives il
had made comfortable must have been
woven into those sturdy blue woolen
hose, When they were finished, the
mother spread them in a row on bel
bed, and with her face bowed on it:
patchwork cover, prayed Heaven to
make them in some way instrumental
in saving her dear SON Then, with s
letter full of sweet mother-love, she
sent them on their way.
Uncle Matt resumed his daily visit:
10 the office. Gradually Jem's lettel
was worn thin from much reading
The folds cracked and the pieces were
held together by zigzag stitches. Many
nights during that long, cold wintel
Jem's letter was tucked under his moth
er's pillow, while she looked forward
with loving certainty to the time wher
another should come. And one day il
the early spring the letter came.
81 was coming home, mother" h'
wrote. "rve been long time on th'
way. I had saved little money, ant
wanted to bring it TO yoa 1t is only
little bit, but l will send il, for / can
come now. They say | can't live, bu
mother, L want you to know that
have not touched a drop Of the stuf
that ruined me since l got your pack
age. / couldn't walk up TO bar witt
stockings on that / knew you had WOW
en- 50 many prayers into. Then, too
your letter was in my pocket, and you
love seemed more real to me than
ever had when was home"
Here the shaky, uncertain writing
broke off. The pen had fallen from
Jem's exhausted hand The nurs
wrote in explanation. Jem was in
hospital in Chicago. He had saved
little child from injury by a half-drunk
en- cart driver, but he himself had beel
knocked down. His injuries were no
serious of themselves, bat his very lif
had been burned out by alcohol H
few weeks of abstinence was in his IS
vor, but his recovery was doubtful
Then she forgot that her patient wa
simply ''case''-one of hundreds
and told with tender sympathy Of th
manly heroism of Jem's conduct
Aunt Bstsey arose when they ha
finished reading the letter and put o
her bonnet and shawl. There were a
tears and signs now, but resolute pref
arat;on for the Inevitable "I'm gOir
over to Miss Behring'S" she said quie