The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-03-05
 THE WAY OF A MAN By EMERSON HOUGH
Copyright. 1907. by the Outing Publishing
 Company

Company
  One thing only quickened my lag gard heart. and that was the all preva- lent talk of war.
 At last, after weeks of travel acloss a disturbed country, I finally reached the angry hive of political dissension at Washington. Here was near home. but did not tarry, and passed thence by stage to Leesburg, in Virginia, and so finally came back into our little val ley and the quiet town of Wallingford. had gone away the victim of m1sfor- tune; l returned home with broken word and an unfinished promise and a shaken heart. That was my return.
 I got me horse at Wallingford barns and rode out to Cowles' Farms. At the gate halted and looked i'll over the wide lawns. It seemed to me I noted a change in them as in myself. s The grass was unkempt, the flower beds showed little attention. opened the gate for myself, rode up to the old stoop and dismounted for the first time in my life there without boy to take my horse. walked slowly up the steps to the great front door of the old house. No servant came to meet me sgrinning. I, grandson of the man who built that house, my fathers home and mine, lifted the brazen knocker of the door and heard no footstep anticipate my knock. The place sounded empty.
 H;ro Ilx-k hr1ff fnnff1ll and the door was opened, but there stood before me no one that l recog- nized. 1t was a smallish, oldish, gray ish man who opened the door and smiled in query at me.
 1 am John Cowles sir," said. hesi- tating. Yourself do not seem to know"-
 My name is Halliday, Mir. Cowles," :" he replied. A flush of humiliation came to my face.
 q should know you. You were my fathers creditor"
 "Yes, sir, my firm was the holder of certain obligations. at the time of your fathers death. You have been gone very long without word to us. Meantime. pending any action"-
 "You have moved in"'
 "I have ventured to take possession, Mir. Cowles. That was as your mother wished. She waived all her rights and surrendered everything, said all the debts must be paid"-
 "Of course"-
 "And all we could prevail upon her to 60 was to take up her quarters there in one of the little houses"
 He pointed with this euphemism to- ward our old servants quarters. So there was my mother, a woman gently reared. tenderly cared for all her life. living in a cabin where once slaves had lived. And I had come back to her, to tell a story such as mine!
 "I hope," said he, hesitating, "that all these matters may presently be adjusted. But first l ask you to in- fluence your mother to come back into the place and take up her residence"
 I smiled slowly. You hardly under stand her." said. "I doubt if my in- fluence will suffice for that. But l shall meet you again." I was turning away.
 "Your mother. belive. is not here she went over to Wallingford. think it is the day when she goes to the little church,
 "Yes. I know. If you will excuse me shall ride over to see if I can find her." He bowed. I was hurrying down the road again. It seemed to me that could never tolerate the sight of stranger as master at Cowles' Farms.
 I found her at the churchyard of the old meeting house. She was just turn ing toward the gate in the low sand stone wall which surrounded the bury Ing ground and separated it from the space immediately about the little stone church. I knew what it was that she looked upon as she turned back toward that spot-it was one more low mound. simple, unpretentious, added to the many which had been placed there this last century and half: one more little gray sandstone headmark, cut simply with the name and dates of him who rested there, last in a long roll of our hers. The slight figure in the dove colored gown looked back lin geringly. It gave a new ache to my heart to see her there. She did not notice me as i slipped down from my saddle and fastened my horse at the long rack. But when called she turned and came to me with open arms.
 Jack" she cried. "My son, how I have missed thee! Now thee has come back to thy mother" She put her forehead on my shoulder, but present ly took up mothers scrutiny. Her hand stroked my hair, my unshaven beard, took in each line of my face. ''Thee has a button from thy coat, she said reprovingly. And what this scar on thy neck; thee did not te
 ne when thee wrote, Jack, what q hee?" She looked at me close Thee is changed. Thee is old What has come to thee, my son?' Come" I said to her at length ,1 her toward the steps of the lii hurch
 Then I broke out bitterly and rail. ,gainst our i'll fortune and cursed | the man who would allow her to li7 in servants quarters-indeed. railed all of life.
 "Thee must learn to subdue myself