Year: 1873

Widow Waring began to wonder if sh
were going to get scolding for not send
ing it home earlier, or whatever else coult
be the matter. But she held the doc
wide, and, with certain dignity, invites
her visitor to enter.


Walking up to the fire, Isabel began al
most before she had time to remove tn,
thick veil from before her face:


"Mrs. Waring"-then breaking off sud
denly, and pointing to the boy before tn,
fire-"but what's his name!"


John Wentworth Waring," said the
widow, with little pardonable pride, fol
she felt that the name had a grand sound
"He was named John for his father, anG
Wentworth for the last royal Governor
of the State of New Hampshire. We
came from there"


"Well, which of his names do you cal
him by! For suppose you don't have
the whole string of them in use every
dayYn
his father" said the widow, as if aston
ished that any body should need to bein
formed of that fact; and after a little
pause she added: ''It was his father who
wanted to have him called Wentworth
but when things came about az they did
I wanted to give him his fathers name,
but at the same time l felt that l must
also give him the name his father wanted
him to have. So that's how he came by
the two names"


"Well, Mrs. Waring, how would you
like to have John go to school?"


"Go to school?" said the woman, her
face lighting up as if paradise had been
put for moment within her reach. Then
the glad look faded as quickly as it had
come, and she said, almost sullenly:
"You see, Miss, it amt no use to talk
about it. Our State amt got no asylum
for the deaf and dumb, and they won't
take him at the public school that the
other children 60 to, because he can't
hear anything"


''Oh, welll / know all about that. But
if you would really like to send him to
school, think I could manage it. And
I'll tell you what I'll do. The school
isn't in this State. 1t is near my home, and
know all about it. Now wait" she
said, seeing the woman's face suddenly
fall again, 81 know what you are going to
say; but wait till I've done. I'll help
trust him to me, I'll pay his expenses to
the school and back, and I'll manage to
have him kept there for a year, if you'll
let him 60"


Let him go! 1t was what she had been
praying for constantly, night and morn
ing, ever since he had been big enough
to run about. She had kept on praying,
but now that God had suddenly answered
her prayer, she knew how little she had
ever dared to hope that He would. The
way in which she broke down utterly,
and hid her convulsed face in her hard
worn hands, was evidence of the great
ness of her desire, and how she had suf-
fered from that heart sickness which
comes of hope deferred.


Isabel found herself in an awkward po-
sition. She was not accustomed to COM
forting those who wept, and was glad
there was a more effectual consoler-for
such John, though he could not say one
soothing word, proved to be. Under pre-
tense of being pressed for time, she would
not listen to a word of all the thanks of
which the mothers heart was so full, but
insisted on keeping strictly to business,
as she termed it.


And so it was agreed that when she
left for her home, in a weeks time, she
should take John Waring with her, and
put him at school. After they had gone,
the widow remembered that she had not
thought to ask Miss Egbert the name of
the school, nor anything else about it.
She only knew that her boy was to go to
school.


"Of course, I suppose they'll teach him
to make signs, and talk on his fingers, as
other deaf and dumb people do. WE'LL"
with a heavy sigh-not quite 80 heavy
as the old one, though "It's the best
that can be done; and he'll learn to read
and write, and cipher, and be able to hold
his own better in the world, thank Godl"
Again it is Christmas Eve in the Wild
ow Warnings cottage. If her face is paler
and more worn even than it was a year
ago, no wonderl She has worked so hard
all the year for her boy. She has thought
of nothing but how she might save for
him. About the room there are various
suggestions of some yet undiscovered
plot-some mystery waiting to be re-
vealed-a'sort of holiday ambuscade look,
in short. The widow sits by the fire as
she did year ago, but she is alone now,
and she does not expect her boy till to-
morrow morning. There is no sound
from the sea, and without the snow falls
solftly. She sits long by the fire, coming
over two old daguerreotypes- of her
husband, that he gave her before they
were married, and the other of her boy
when he was fat, staring baby. Atlast
q,
and creeps softly away to bed.


Was it dream, or an old memory? Be-
tween sleep and waking, she found her
self repeating, "Peace on earth, good will
toward men," and opening her eyes sud-
denly, it seemed to her as if she had come
out of great light into the dark and ST.
lenee of the night. II thought heard
the singing" she murmured drowsily, and
slept once more, the sweetest sleep she
had known since that night on which he1
husband had been washed ashore.
She was up bright and early the next
morning, for John might come home in
time for breakfast; and sure enough, just
as she had set the little black teapot on its
mat at the corner of the table, tramping
eff feet was heard outside, and before she
could get to the door it was thrown open
and there on the threshold stood John
an inch taller at least, she thought; his
face brighter and roster than ever, his
eyes bigger and browner, and ever SC
much merrier. But was it really John
for as she went toward him, he stretched
out his arms, and his lips parted. From
those lips came a voice she had never
heard before:


| "A happy Christmas to you, motherp


''Mother!" She gave him one dazed
look, in which Joy struggled with strong
wonder, and then he had to catch her in
his arms. 1t was too much for her. She
had heard her boy call her "Mother."


Isabel Egbert, who had stood just be
hind John, had to cry little before she
could be of any use. Think you would
have had to do the same if you had been
in her place.


Yes, after all, the mystery, which was
explained little later-when the Widow
Waring sat by the fire, both her sons
hands in hers, and looking as if she could
never take her eyes off his face, and want
ing to hear him say mother every minute
of the time-was not so unreal after all
Isabel had thought, as soon as she knew
just established near her home for teach
ing the deaf and dumb to speak and tc
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