Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1911-12-20

nancier. Yet there were whisperings
Of q youthful romance and early de-
parture from home. No one ever
dared breach the subject and It had
long since been forgotten.
AS Charles Stearns gazed into the
FIRE In the library of his home. the
hickering light seemed to recall days
of the past. In fancy he saw again his
boyhood home, his parents and ac-
quaintances. How little they had been
to him for so long time!
Quarterly stipends he had supplied
to the old folks, yet he had never
needed the call they sent out for their
only son.
AS the man sat musing, he spoke
aloud:
Il believe am getting sentimental.
think shall surprise the old folks
and pay them a visit for Christmas"
"A thought meant an act with
6tearns His mind once made up. it
took much to change it. His decision
to return to the farm for the holiday
gave him pleasure. He could hardly
await the time when he was to start.
He bought presents for the old folks.
He remembered his fathers delight In
watches. One jof the finest to be had
went into the satchel for him. The silk
for a new dress made up a portion OF
what he planned for his mother.
1t was long journey to the old
homestead. The train sped onward
and each moment made the man more
anxious to see his people and the old
place again. But suddenly thought
occurred to him and his face blanched.
He had forgotten; Stella Harrington
might still be there.
All the memories OF the past were
swept aside and he thought only Of
her.
Once she had promised to make him
happy. AS he thought Of that time, he
sighed deeply. She had altered his life
when she changed her mind at the
last and threw. him over.
He recalled the jeers of his boyhood
companions as they sneered their
rough witticisms at him. It was the
way Of the country and he could not
stand the finger of scorn and had fed.
That was in the long ago and he had
almost forgotten-until now.
As the train stopped at the little
station on the hill It seemed as II
he had left it only yesterday.
hut no-where was George White.
tha old agent? A young man filled
his place. The driver of the stage
wac another stranger. Old Eb Brown
waa also thing of the past.
Name knew the portly middle-aged
man as he strobe towards the coach
that piled between station and town.
There was a moments pause. while
the driver gathered the mail. as old
Eb had done SO many times, and they
were OF.
AS the rig ratified over the rough
roads the man within watched with
Interest the scenes OF his youth. The
town had changed little In the years
that had passed.
When the coach paused at the old
homestead the mans eyes filled with
tears. A woman came from the house;
mother and son were in each others
arms.
On the porch stood his father to
welcome the man home. With misty
eyes the united family stood. All
hearts were full The parents hopes
had been realized and the prodigal
had come home.
How could have remained away
SO long?" he asked again and again
as the old folks hustled about, trying
to make him comfortable.
"And, Charlie, you are now bank
er they tell U.S." said his mother. you.
who left US SO long ago. are the image
Of your father at your age"
my boy" spoke the father, 'it has
been long time since you went away,
but we are mighty glad to have you
back again."
The sons heart was too full for
words. There was one question he
would like to ask but the words re-
fused to come.
Charlie" questioned his mother.
have you ever seen Stella since the
day you went away? l know I ought
not to speak OF this, but must"
"Mother!" All a boys anguish came
forth In that word. AS Of yore he
buried his face in the parents lap and
sobbed.
She stroked his now thinning locks
and the touch was magical. Why had