The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1909-05-19

recovered, kind han DIS helped her to a
carriage, and she was soon in the quiet
of her own room. There was no train
10 take her to the little country village
until the next morning, so d must
wait, wait, wait.
Oh. this dreary waiting ! The min.
utes seemed hours and the hours days.
She lived again the time in which she
was a little girl; remembered how
kind to her the rough old man always
was. Then she recalled the time when
she had come away, and he had held
her in his arms and kissed her many
times while the tears rolled down his
wrinkled cheeks. And was be never
to return her kisses again I? Would he
never speak to her again ? 1t couldn't
be. God would never be go cruel as
that. Oh, that she might live her life
over again, she would never leave
him, never
And 80 the weary hours passed
away, and at last the long night was
over. The train, although 1t was an
express, seemed to crawl, but at last
she reached the old farm house, where
her mother met her at at the door,. .
SIS he alive" was Annie's first
question.
Eyes, dear, but he cannot last long.
He slipped on a piece of ice m fell,
causing some internal Injuries, and
ever since he became conscious has
been calling for you"
"Then he will know me?"
Eyes, I think 90 but he 10 asleep
now. Try and get a little rest. L WILL
call you when he awakes."
"No, you take a rest, yourself" An
ME replied, as she took the little wo-
man ia her arms. "Dear mother, |
have been selfish long enough, and
let you do the hard things, but hence.
forth things are to be different; 80 lie
down and try to get a little nap; If ia,
Their wakes up, I promise to call you"
In a short time her father did awake
and he called for Annie at once.
Eyes, father, 1 am here; is there
anything you WANT"
siYour mother" His lips formed the
words with an effort.
II will call her."
When they were by his bedside he
reached out and clasped their hands IN
his.
"Dear ones-I have got to leave
your At the first, words came slowly
and in%distinctly, but, as be went on,
became palmer -"but don't grieVe-
it will be but-a little while-before we
meet again. I tried-to be good to-
you bolh-don't cry-it makes it hard
er for me. The years-have been dong
and dreary-since you went-away,
Annie,-but I thank GOd-that be has
returned you to us-as pure-as when
you went away. There is n thing
I want to ask you-don't leave-your
mother again-for you won't have Ter
long. Be good to her-dear, and
don't leave her alone" He paused
and lay with bis eyes closed for awhile,
showing plainly that he was COM
pletely exhausted, and when next he
spoke it was with great effort.
~ neutrality-suspicious. now
Colds taking -me-home. Annie,
DEMONSTRATIONS"
Could she do it? She must: and she
would do her best, and do her best she
did, for although in after years she
sang for kings and queens, she never
as she did for her dying father.
Surely it was some power from heaven
that put such sweetness into her voice.
Home, home, sweet. sweet home!
Be it ever no humble, there's no place lib
home"
As she finished, a smile of ipeffable
content passed over her fathers face,
and, with a whispered Good by,"' he
had entered the "Home, Sweet Home"
for all.