The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1899-11-02
A FAILURE


drip, drip, in which there was neither
pleasure nor hope; nothing but a de-
pressing repetition of an already weari-
some theme.
DuH gray clouds overhead, sodden
green fields below, and through the
dreary scene one solitary figure, trudg-
ing on with certain dull persistence
that seemed as hopeless as the monoto-
nous falling of the rain. Now squelch-
ing in the mud, now splashing through
a puddle, he went steadily on, his head
bent, his hands thrust deep into his
pockets, the collar of his shabby coat
turned up in a vain attempt to keep off
the all-pervading rain. He was young
in years still, though there was little
of youthful elasticity in his step, and in
his heart-God knows!-no youthful
hopefulness, nothing but disappoint-
ment, and disillusion, and logged de-
spair.
He glanced mechanically at the ia
miliar country-familiar from child
hood, though now unseen for seven
long years-but this Homecoming left
him little spirit to look about him, and
such slight changes as there were
Though he noticed them, every one, in
a dull, impersonal kind of way) failed
to interest him. To get home, to say
what he had to say, and be done with it,
that was all he could think of now, as
ii was all he had lived for during many
weary week. Afterwards
But Ralph Wroughton's mind refused
to consider what would happen after
wards. The future was a blank to him.
Presently the ground fell away before
his feet, and at the BOTTOM of the slope
he saw the old homestead-the low
rambling house with its, latticed win
dows and quaint, twisted chimneys;
the old matched barn and farm build
ings, the garden, and the group of shell
tering elms beyond. lie drew his breath
sharply for a moment and stood still.
while a thousand memories rushed over
him; useless memories, that could but
make the present harder, more bitter
He moved restlessly as though to shake
them off, and tramped on.
The tall, white hollyhocks stood,
drenched and detected, on either side of
the tagged garden path, and the con-
slant drip, drip of the rain sounded
mournfully in his ears as he lifted the
latch.
There was a murmur of voices within
which ceased abruptly. With a sudden
gesture he flung open the door and en-
tered.
Two women stood in the low, raftered
kitchen, the red glow of the fire behind
them; one old and gaunt, her lanll gray
hair struggling from beneath rusty
black cap, her keen black eyes glancing
with hawllille vigilance above a thin.
hooked nose; the other, young and
comely, chestnut-haired and gray-eyed,
with a finely nodded figure and beauti-
fully poised head, the simplicity of the
peasant in her spotless print gown, but
of a peasant with the carriage of a
queen.
They looked at Ralph in silence for a
minute or more, and he looked back at
them, hoping, perhaps, that they would
speak and make his hard task some
what easier, but if so he hoped in vain.
"I-have come back" he said, at
length.
81 see thee hast. lad" the old woman
assented, brusquely, but why?"
He made a little deprecatory gesture,
and she laughed grimly. The younger
woman said never a word.
Hast come back as poor as thee
went?" the cracked voice went on.
Poorer; have failed"
else. Well, well! and after thy big
words and all! Thy schooling has not
done much for thee, beyond giving thee
notions above thy station in life and a
sinful pride that would take none of
Gods good gifts without thou couldst
pay for them, and put down shilling for
shilling; thou, beggared before thou
vast born; who, but for the charity of
neighbors, hadst drawn thy first
breath in the workhouse! But thou
hast come back and there's an end"
AN end, he echoed, YEARLY. Il was
but fool for my pains; know it now"
Hear to him?" with shrill derision.
Hast learned that much, and yet canst
say thou hast come back poorer than
thee went? Nay, lad; one bit o com
mon sense like that is worth all thy
books and learning, not to speak O the
few bits O. brass. But there, sit down.
and let me get on with my work. Ihave
no time to waste with thee now, for
there's deal to be done in the dairy:
and Phoebe here"
She broke off, and, with a keen glance
at the silent woman beside her clat-
tered out of the room, closing the door
as she went
Her footsteps echoed noisily down
the paved passage and died away in the
distance. There was long silence, in
which the pattering of the rain against
the window seemed to grow louder and
full of a strange persistence.
Since that first look on his entrance
he had not once glanced at the younger
woman, but her eyes had never left his
face. They were fixed on him now with
a curiously intent gaze that he might
have found it hard TO read
"Ralph-not a word for me?"
The low, full-toned voice thrilled him
into a sudden passion of pain; he turned