The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1903-12-02
20 = - By SYLvANUs CoB3, Jr.


marks upon her face the SUNSHINE
of full as many summers had left
her with a thankful, loving heart
and a prayerful, loving soul.
cit is showing again, faster than
ever" remarked Paul as he took his
seat at the table.
"Ah!!" returned Ruric, resting his
knife few moments while he bent
his ear to listen to the voice Of the
storm. 81 had hoped 'twould snow
no more for the present. The snow
is deep enough now. And how it
blow :"
s<Never mind" spoke the dame in
trustful, easy tone; cit must storm
when it listeth, and We can only
thank God that We have shelter and
pray for those who have none
"A3nen!n' responded Ruric fer
vently.
After this the trio remained some
minutes silent, seeming to be busy
in listening to the storm notes that
came pealing about the cot. The
wind was high, and the snow was
now dashing upon the windows with
dreary, melancholy sound. The
meal was at length eaten and the ia
Bile set back, and shortly afterward
Paul retired to his bed. It was his
wont to retire early, for he rose
early to build the fires and prepare
for the labors of the day.
Ruric drew his chair close up to
the fireplace, and, leaning against
the iamb, he bowed his head and
pondered again. This had become
a habit with him of late. Some
times he would sit thus during a
whole hour without speaking OF
even moving, and his mother did
not interrupt him, as she supposed
he might be solving some mechanic
al problem that had arisen to bother
him. But these fits of thought had
become too frequent, too lengthy
and too moody for such conclu-
sion. and the good woman was fore
ed to believe that they were caused
bv something more remote than the
business of the forge or the lathe
The youth now sat with his brow
resting Upon his hand and his eyes
ben, upon the hearth. For half an
-four he had not moved, and his
face wore an anxious, troubled look.
"Ruric. my son" spoke the moth
er at length in a low, kind tone,
what is it that occupies your
thoughts so much? ?"
The young man started and turn
ed his gaze upon his mother.
'sDid you speak to me, my moth
err" he asked after having recalled
him mind to things about him.
'.Aes. my boy" she said, q did
speak TO you. asked you what it
was that occupied your thoughts"
'sOh. nothing. nothing" Ruric an
swered after some moments of hesi-
tation. 81 was only thinking; that
was all" !"
Il know you were thinking, and
/ know that was ali at the time, but
of what, Ruric:o Come, hide no Sc
screts from your mother. Ihave no
ticed~you of late, and, l know you
are changed. That old smile is
gone from your face, and sometimes
| have feared the gladness has
gone from your heart. | have seen
you bent in thought over your work
when l knew that Of your work you
were not thinking, and | have seen
you buried in deep thought when
you should be reading or convers-
ing with me"
'sIIave |, then, offended you.
my mother:?''
'sNo, no: oh, no, my noble boz.
Never did such a thought enter nv
mind. If | have been made uneasy
thereby. it was only in love for thee
and the fear that thou vert not so
happy as in the past. Will you not
tell me all? Oh, | hope my boy
fears not to trust his mother with
his thoughts
AS she spoke thus she moved her
seat close to where Ruric sat and
placed her hand upon his arm.
''Tell me, my boy" she added in
a low, persuasive tone, ''wha, it is;
that dwells thus upon your mind"
Rurlc reached out and took Ills
mothers hand, and, having gazod
for some moments into her face, he
said:
''Surely, my mother, l have moth
ing in my soul that would nice
from thee. If l have kept my
thoughts to myself with unscemin.