Custer County Republican. (Broken Bow, Neb.) 1882-1921, 1903-07-02

apron, soiled ribbon, W broken parasol
and once, when my parents visited
them, they sent us q trunkful Of rub,
bish- My father, who was warmly nt
tached to my Uncle Thomas, lent him
money from time 70 time, and signed
notes tp the amount of several thousand
dollars, neveS once dreaming that In the
end he would he ruined. while my uncle
influenced by his more crafty wife, man
aged in some unaccOuntnble way to main
tain nearly tho same style of living as
formerly, and If his proud daughters
ever fen the ilb of poverty, 1t was Ger
tainly not apparent In the rich silks and
costly furs which they continued to sport.
1t was O terrible blow ~ us all, but
upon no one did II fall 30 heavily as upon
my father, crushing him TO the earth, and
rendering him nearly as powerless az Il
the giant oak when torn FROM its par
emit bed by the wrathful storm The old
homestead was endeared to hun by
thousand hsDowpd associations 1t was
the home Of his boyhood, and around the
cheerful fires, which years ago were kin
died on Its spacious hearthstone, he had
played with those who long since had
passed from his side, some to nlingle in
liIt khOuN ufulhh VI hiOf uiAb OthSAo "
that world where they number not by
years, There, too In HE early manhood
had he brought his bride, my gentle
mother, and on the rough bark of the
towering naples, by the side of his own
and his brothers names. we're carved
those Of his children, all save little ia
ME, who died ere his tiny fingers had
learned the use of knife or hammer. No
wonder, then, that his head grew dizzy
and his heart sick as he thought of leav
ing It forever, and when at last the try
Ing moment came, when with trembling
hand he signed the deed which made him
homeless, he laid his weary head upon
the lap Of his aged mother and wept like
a little child.
A small house In the village was hired,
and after few weeks preparation, one
bright June morning, when the flowers
wo had watched over and tended with
care were In bloom, when the robins
were singing their sweetest songs, and
when the blue sky bent gently over us,
we bid adieu TO the spot, looking back
with wistful eyes until every trace of
our home had disappeared. Farewell for
ever to thee, dea- old homestead, where
now other footsteps tread and other chill
dren play than those of "auld lang syne."
The lights and shadows of years have
fallen upon thee since that summer morn,
and with them have come changes to thee
as we'll as to US 1.-THE moss-covered
bucket which hung In the well' has been
removed; the curb, whose edges were
worn by childish hands, is gone; While
in place Of the violets and daisies which
once blossomed on the grassy lawn, the
thistle and the burdock now are grow
ing, and the white rose bush by the door,
from whence they plucked the buds which
strewed the coffin bed of our baby broth
er, Is dead Weeds choke the garden
walks, and the moss grows green and
damp on the old stone wall Even the
brook which ran so merrily past our door
has been stopped In its course, and its
sparkling waters, bereft of freedom, now
turn the wheel of huge sawmill with a
low and sullen roar. All is changed, and
though memory still turns fondly to the
spot which gave me birth, have learned
to love another home, for where my
blessed mother dwells It's surely home to
me- BY her side there is, l know, q
vacant chair, and In her heart a lonely
void; but while she lives can | not feel
that I have indeed home, though il be
not the spot where first she blessed me
as her child?