Year: 1865

ago, at the solicitation Of a merchant
who had taken fancy to him"


Mrs. Grover took from a drawer in her
workable a letter and read


DEAREST MOTHER Everything is
going right with me. Mr.. l. is one
of the best of men, and am doing all in
my power to give him satisfaction. I
could not deny myself the pleasure of
reading to him few sentences from your
last letter. where you speak 50 beautifully
on the subject of doing right, and notfor
the sake of pleasing or getting worldly
gain. He did not say anything, bat 1
could see by the expression of his face
that he was pleased. On the day after
he said to me, Frank, has your mother
an income? I could only tell him the
truth. He looked serious for little
while. Then he asked how much Of my
salary I remitted you; and when 1
answered that I sent all except one hun
dred dollars, on which I clothed myself,
he took my hand and said: Frank,
that is the best thing 1 have heard of
you. You are a good boy, and will never
be the loser by anything done for your
mother 1 e'lt very proud, mother
Praise is good sometimes.


Well, on the next day Mr.. Il
said to me: Frank, has your mother
any particular reasons for remaining at
the EastP And when I ansa cred,
None that I know Of he said, Write
to her, and convey my earnest sOlicita-
ton to remove to this place. Tell her
that have two or three pleasant houses,
of which she can make her choice; and
that, on the day she arrives, will double
your salary, so that there can remain no
question as to the ways and means of
living in comfort. Wasn't that good ?
Wasn't that noble? Don't you wonder
how could keep this good news back
from the first sentence in my letter2 1t
was hard work. But 1 wanted to lead
you on, dear mother, and not make the
surprise to sudden.


"Of course, you will come? There is
nothing to keep you in p. When
shall expect you and dear Fanny? 1
shall hardly know her-you say she has
grown so much. Oh, won't we be all so
happy together? You shall live an
easier life here than you have ever lived.
With my salary doubled, there will be
no more hard work for you. The golden
DAYS are coming. mother! Write imme-
diately. 7 shall be all impatience until
get your letter. Your loving son,


FRANK"


Mrs. Growers voice had faltcrcd
several times as she read this letter, and
as she lifted her eyes on closing it to the
face of her friend, they were full of tears
glad tears, in which lcge's gUnshine
made rainbows.


So you see that my golden days are
coming" she said.


Mrs. Wilton dropped her gaze to the
floor, and sighed heavily. For her nc
golden days like these were coming
While idle, neglectftl and asleep, ar
enemy had sown tares in her field, and
now she was in the harvest time of bitter
regrets and disappointments. In the
pure mirror of her friends life, she wa:
reflected the errors, the criminal neglect
the poor self-seeking. and vanity of hel
own and she went away in sadness and
self-condemnation. But the truth which
had come to her came too late. The evil
had been done. For her, as she had
well said, there we're no golden days il
store, to make beautiful the last periot
Of her life on earth. As she had sown
so she must reap. To each comes hi
own harvest.