Warren sheaf. [volume] (Warren, Marshall County, Minn.) 1880-current, 1907-09-12

fastened, his face pale and convulsed
with feeling.
what is it, John?" she said, In
alarm Can I help you in any way?"
Read that" he pointed to para
graph, saying: 1T is the first word
I've heard from home in ten years"
1t was an obituary notice of a
wealthy and influential citizen of a
distant city, and with the eulogy the
mention of the fact that grief for the
hayward course of an only and
long lost son had been the prime cause
of his death.
''And you, john"
II am the hayward son, Mrs. Aus
Elm, and in addition to remorse for my
own foclishly wasted years, 1 must
carry that of bringing down my ia
theirs gray hairs in sorrow to the
grave. Do you know what you have
done for me, Mrs Austin, what depths
you have rescued me from. When
came to you that Sunday morning, I
had come to the very husks of my
career, and I didn't much care what
became Of me or what I did; but you
spoke kind word in season-you set
me out a portion of food in way
which reminded me of my home, Of
my mother, and the bread and to
spare in my fathers house. You did
not see the tears in my eyes when I
went out, but l believe God did. Then
your good husband continued your
work by offering me honest employ
ment, and you took me into your
home as guest. You cannot know
how that day in your home inspired
me to try for better things, to re-
gain little at least Of the manhood
] had lost
"And you have, john" Mrs. Aus
tins eyes were wet with tears as the
mans eager eloquence fell upon her
ear gratefully whatever you have
been in the past, this present year has
been we'll spent"
Il am not John. I had so dis
graced my honorable name that I had
no right to use it, but if you think I
am worthy to bear it again, call me
Franklin Richards, the name on my
baptismal card" he said, gravely. 1T
is short history, Mrs. Austin, the
old, old one of the Prodigal Son who
took his portion from home and
wasted it in riotous living, only that
my father is not there now to well
come me home"
But the mother is" Mrs. Austin
face lighted up brightly.
Yes, and lovely girl, my fathers
ward. We were to have been mar
ried, but she has doubtless driven me
from her heart before now l deserve
it all and more;" his head dropped
dejectedly.
Don't despair; it will all come
right, I am sure it will, and you must
write home this very day. You should
have done so long ago.
In an elegant home on one of the
made preparation to celebrate Thanks
giving day. She was fair, sweet
woman, with soft, black eyes set
deep in a face which was lined with
care and grief
A young lady was seated, looking
earnestly out upon the passersby, her
hands folded, her eyes full of longing
usefulness. She had passed her girl
hood, as she looked back upon it there
seemed a great mountain of years Of
heartache between those happy, care
less days and the present; still they
had borne the mellow fruit of expert.
ence and discipline, and Ruth Haskell
was nobler, wiser woman to-day
than Franklin Richards had ever
known, while her beauty was not in
the least impaired. She had been a
lovely girl then, with all a girls crude
immaturity of thought and feeling, to-
day she was woman with wider,
stronger views of life and it's RESPONSE
bilities, and her capacities for loving
with a true, wise love strengthened
by the lapse of years. She started
as the mothers gentle hand was
placed upon her shoulder.
"Oh, auntie, I believe I was about
thousand miles away at that mo-
ment"
"Then you were farther away than
he, I trust. Oh, Ruthie, if your uncle
could only be here this thankful,
happy day.
Eyes, auntie." Tears gathered, for
the absent one had been the kindest,
most indulgent of husbands and
guardians. Still, auntie, we have so
much cause for Thanksgiving"
Eyes, Ruthie," the jeweled hands
were smoothing the fine brown hair
and picking out tiny curl into
fluffy fringe over the smooth fore
head "To think that my petted,
treasured boy should ever have be-
come a tramp-really needing for
food and clothing She shuddered
visibly.
ut was Gods way, auntie. When
the Prodigal Son came home the ia
Their loved him the more for what he
had passed through She looked up
into the kind face over her, with a
vivid blush.