The daily morning journal and courier., 1906-03-28
THE WAYFARER.

bought a melodeon. It was large one, better than any other round And as we lived on the hilltop afar could be heard the sound. I learned to play it as well as any one else could play, And even played in Sunday school when the regular performer was away We loved to sing together Pa and Ma and brother, Evenings after supper one song after another, Lilly Dale and Strike the symbol and Woodman Spare That Tree, The Old Oaken Bucket, Tenting To- night and Dearest Spot on Earth to Me- Pa had a real nice tenor voice, he al- ways sung in the choir, And Ma could carry the air as high as the music did aspire, Brother sung too, and so did l, so we carried all the parts, And sung as loud as we wanted to when joy was in our hearts. Pa was very kind hearted and never would turn away The poor from his door, for he said 'I may be hungry some day" So we always fed the wayfarers and sent them on refreshed, Though Ma said when we fed one tramp she thought he told the next, For they kept coming three or four a day, But we always had bread and meat and pie, so no one went hungry away One sunny autumn afternoon l was in the house alone, Even the cat and dog away to the fields had flown; And feeling lonesome I opened my dear melodeon, And began to sing from Gospel Hymns in clear and joyous tone sung and sung and only stopped when l heard knock at the door, And there stood a very nice looking young man I never had seen be- fore. He told me his name, spoke of parents and home and why he was on the road, And said that the sound of my voice had drawn him to my abode; He said he was near relation to the president of Yale, And told me all his misfortunes; 1t was a sorrowful tale, And would give him morsel to eat, if l would be so kind My charity and my lovely voice tyould never pass from his mind. set the kitchen table with food enough for three ,t And made fresh coffee, for that young man was so polite to me, His language was so beautiful, his tone so sweet and sad, I thought he might be a prince in dis guise; l knew he could not bt bad
 He sat him down and began to eat in 2
 mournful, weary way; Then paused and said Sweet Maiden will you not go and play? Sing me the songs my mother sung tc the little lad on her knee When I was as fair and blooming and innocent as thee. Sing me the songs of Home, of the lap. py days ofSyouth, When my thoughts were free iron guile, knowing only love and truth. Sing to my heart, let me dream hear
 my angel mothers voice Calling to her poor wandering boy; ii
 will make rr1y soul rejoice. He wiped away his tears I was crying too;
 So back to my melodeon in great haste
 I flew; sung and sung; whenever l stopped would hear his voice Saying, 'fstng on, Sweet Bird, vol make my sad heart rejoice So I sang for half an hour, maybe g little more. And I did not hear him go so still h'
 closed the door. He left note on the table, "I thanl
 you for all your cheer, Your songs, your pie, good bye, goot bye, I may never return here; cannot look again upon your lovely face Until have truly reformed and lifted myself from disgrace. If we never meet again, sometimes for a wanderer pray; I shall hold your image deep in my heart for all you have done this
 day" I read and read and cried till the note
 was sopplng wet, And among my choicest treasures that poem is hidden yet That night when the folks got back w found to our surprise That Pas gold-bowed specs were gone and three green apple pies; Fifty cents that belonged to Bub, 2
 ham bone, a loaf of cake, Four silver spoons, the coffee pot and
 slice of cold beefsteak, One of Pas shirts that Ma left out to sew a button on, Two pairs of socks, some crullers and a telescope bag were gone, And never were found; some one mus have slipped in after he wen
 away: I know he could not be thief, the nict man I sung to that day.
 MYRTDB MAY.
 LADIES' SOCIABLE.