Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1900-04-24

"NOp CTtSo ftODCTt AufuB. LNtS
mu SOM
stairs as the two came In, and as
George turned and faced her she held
out her arms, crying:
my boy! Ny boy! We have been
80 anxious about you"
What. not one word OF reproach, or
rebuke, Of question as TO what he had
been doing all this time that the family
had been suffering! No; not one word.
All. mother love! II Is the most won
derful thing on earth, next to the love
OF God for the sinner. II Is even that,
for II is the love Of God expressing It.
self through the mother. who Is the
temple OF the loving God.
George dashed away tear and then,
going up to his mother, laid his cheek
against hers, and she folded her arms
about him and cried little and asked
no questions, and after moments 81
lence he stammered out few words
Of sorrow at having caused her pain,
and she joyfully accepted his broken
EXPLANATION Of how he had not known
| of the accident to Clara and the others
It was true he had gone out the even
Ing before. fully intending to go down
| TO the scene Of the accident; but. COM
ing across some Of his old companions,
he had gone of with them and spent
the night In a disgraceful carouse and
throughout the day had been under the
influence Of liquor more or less, dimly
conscious that a great disaster had
happened down the road, but not
sober enough to realize its details or
| Its possible connection with those OF
his own home.
The sudden meeting with his father
had startled him out Of the drowsy in
toYication he had fallen into as the
day progressed. Now, as he felt his
mothers arms around him and realized
a little what the family had been call
ed upon to endure, 'he felt the shame
and disgrace Of his own conduct.
Mr.. Hardy went up stairs and con-
suited with the doctor, who wondered
at his protracted absence. There was
no change In Clara yet She lay In q
condition which could not be called q
trance nor a sleep. She did not seem
to be In any great pain, but she was
unconscious Of all outside conditions.
After q little talk with his mother
George came up and inquired after
Bess and VIII. They were both sleep
| ing, and after the doctor had gone out
| the father and mother and son sat
down together In the room where Clara
lay.
Mr.. Hardy did not say a word to
| George about the incident Of the even
Ing. The shame Of II was too great
yet. When men Of Mr.. Hardy's self
| contained, repressed. proud nature are
panied, 1t is with an intense inward
fire Of passion that cannot bear to
break out into words.
George had sense enough to offer to
relieve his parents Of the burden OF
watching during the night. and during
| the exchange of watchers along toward
morning, as Mrs. Hardy slipped Into
| the room to relieve the boy, she found
him kneeling down at a couch with
his face buried in the cushions. She
| raised her face In thanksgiving to God
and went softly out.
The morning dawned gray with snow
which still whirled In wreaths about
the sorrowing homes Of Barton. but
Robert Hardy thought Of the me-ciful
covering It would make for the ghast.
" piles Of ruin down under the bridge
and along the banks of the river.
He said to himself: This IL my
fourth day. How can I best spend III
What shall I dor He kneeled and
prayed and rose somewhat refreshed.
The forenoon went rapidly by. and
before he knew Il noon was near. The
time had passed in watching Clara
Visiting with Bess and VIII and doing
some necessary work for the company
in his little ONCE down stairs. He did
not feel like saying anything to Georgt
yet.
James Caxton had been IN, and the
nrst thing be had mentioned had been
his own act in the meeting the night
before. Mr.. Hardy thanked God fol
It, and q prayer went out Of his hear
for hls own son. that the Spirit might
touch him IN bis sin aDd brlng him N
] % tho Iieht Of Christ