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


sThat amt smoke, father, it's just a
cloud"
81 think it's smoke,n and both the
old people with faces pressed close to
the window peered wistfuiiy .: the
thin, gray film wavering above the
trees Of the distant grove.
ats moving this way. mother"
Like enough the breeze is in the
east"
There p they both exclaimed as the
faint sound of whistle reached them.
The rumble Of the car wheels became
distinct, but still they stood watching
the shifting line of smoke as IL came
nearer. Neither moved until the long
train rushed through the town, passing
only few rods from the windows
where they were watching. Then I'm
Gle Matt turned away and sat down in
his old-fashioned splint rocker. His
hands, bronzed and knotted with
weather and work, were clasped over
the head of his walking stick. He
leaned forward, heavily resting his
head on his hands
AREN'T you goiu' for the mail, IA
there''
"Tain't any use. I've been every day
for ten years, and never a word from
Jem yet"
"Bnt it might come to-day, and l
couldn't stand itno wsys to think may
be there was letter there and We didn't
know itp
Uncle Matt rose slowly from his chair
'.Seems 'zif l couldn't drag myself up
to the post-office many more times.
This goin' and gOin' every day, and
watchin' and watchin' the letters pop
PIN into the boxes here and there and
everywhere, and thinkin' every time
that the next one will fiy into our box
and it will be from Jem-but there,
mother, I'm goin'. Meybe it will come
to day"
Aunt Betsey rocked back and forth,
crying softly, while Uncle Matt, with
labored effort, moved around the room
getting ready for his walk. He came
and stood beside her as he buttoned his
worn, faded coat snugly across his
chest, then he patted her silvery hair
with clumsy sympathy, saying, "Ihere
mother, there mother, Pm goin' now. I"
Aunt Betsey nodded and tried to smile
as be went out the door.
II was a snowy, tedious walk, but
Uncle Matt trudged brsvely on, the
heroism of his wife's smile filling his
loving old heart, and urging forward
| his aged, rheumatic limbs. Every one
in the village knew him-knew the al
most hopeless hope Of his daily pill
grimages to the Office The group of
idlers waiting to catch stray bits of gOs-
sip from those who were coming and
going, smiled sympathetieally when
the postal clerk took letter from the
box and waved it at the old man as he
entered the door.
For me ?'' he asked. as it for me?"
The clerk nodded. "I hope it's all
right" he ventured, noticing how the
letter shook in the trembling hand that
received il. But Uncle Matt could
make no reply. He stumbled out into
the street again, the precious letter
crushed il his intense, eager grasp.
He forgot all the heart-brsaking anxi-
ETY. Of those long years. He forgot that
Jem had left home in a drunkenfury,
| without one word of farewell but sullen
curses. He forgot the bitter cruelty OF
his unbroken silence during the long
years. He remembered only that be
was their son, their bright, beautiful,
winning boy. AS he neared home be
exulted in the the thought of the hap
piness he was taking to the boys moth
er He knew he should find her sitting
before the little open stove trying To
knit She had long since stopped ask
ing if there was any mail, and this
morning she did not even look up a
be csme in, lest he should see her toe
willing tears. He sat down by her and
put the letter in her lap. There was nc
need to ask from whom it came. They
| had no thought at first whether tht
news was good or bad. 1t was enough
for the moment that Jem was alive
that he had written to them.
"You open it. MOTHER Uncle Mat
said st last. She lifted it from her lap
took hold Of one corner with thumI
and finger, but her hands refused to dG
her bidding.
81 can't, father. You open it,
He reached to take it, but sll the sOr
row and loneliness OF those long years
all the disappointed pride and ambi
ton, and all the possibilities and hap
piness or misery concealed by the COM
mon yellow envelope overwhelmed
him.
"No, mother, I can't" he faltered
after pause, '.we'll take il TO Lizy."
Lizy's home over on the next stree
was in plain sight across the opel
space. They went acrcss the field b,
the footpath the children had worl
through the snow. L'zy saw them CON
ing, carrying the letter between them
and opened the door as they turned in
to the yard.
s'You open it, Aunt Betsey said, b
way OF greeting, holding the letter IL
ward her sister.
Lizy was plump, comfortable won
an, with much sense and little sent
ment-
Lost your glasses" she asked, ruT
ming her scissors along the edxs