Year: 1875

And deep than the sound of seas. more soft


than failing fake.


Amidat the hush Of wing and song the Voice


Eternal spake:


Welcome. my angels! ye have brought hoier


Joy to b, aven;


Henceforth its sweetest song shall he the song of
sin forgvent


From ne April 1fahtic.
WHY THE BOYS DIDN'T RUN


AWAY.


Twenty years ago Peter Raymond
owned hard. stony farm eighteen
miles from Hartford. One Septem-
ber evening, about o'clock, rs he
returned home from neighbours he
suddenly recollected that he had left
his bride hanging on bar-post by
his sheep-barn when he turned his
old white mare into the pasture that
afternoon. He sprang over the wall
and struck across lots, hoping to Sc
cure it before any greedy mawed
bovine should make it forever useless
for bride purposes. AS he drew
near the barn he though he heard
voices inside. What any one should
be there for he could not conjecture.
He stepped as lightly as he could on
the unmowed rowen, and slipped in
behind the big door which was stand
ing ajar, and listened.


Philip, his Oldest son, was there,
and Clinton Dexter, a son of the man
at whose house he had been to call.
The boys were about of an age-both
nearly fifteen. Philip was talking
when his father went up to the barn,
but he finished what he was saying
just as Mr.. Raymond got INTO posi-
ton to catch the words, and young
Dexter commenced to reply. He
said:


"Well, Phil, my father is just as
inconsiderate as your father is. l
don't think, he remembers that he ever
was boy. There is scarcely day
in the year that he does not ride out
he rides more'n he used to before
he was first selectman; and you may
be sure he always has something on
hand to be done, just as your father
does. Soon as the frost is out of the
ground in the Spring, he tells me be-
fore he rides off that l may pick up
stones or spread manure till it is time
to fodder; after that comes plowing
and planting; a little later in the
season he tells me to hoe potatoes, or
weed the garden, till it is time to get
up the cows: and if he is at home
when take the pail to go out and
milk, he always tells me to be sure
and strip the cows clean, just as
though he thought l would be lazy
and dishonest enough to leave half
the milk in their bags if he did not
tell me so; and he would be just as
likely to tell me that before dozen
visitors as any makes fellow feel
mighty uncomfortable, YOU know
In the winter l have to chop wood
most of the time l am not in school;
and don't think my father ever feels
quite satisfied if don't chop rs much
and hoe as much, and plow as much
rs Il full. grown man could in the
same time. didn't know till the
other day hor- 1t was with you, Phil.
l don't wonder that your patience is
worn out; and l assure you that am
quite as tired of living in this way us
you are


II hcsitated good while. Clint"
Phil replied, "betore l decided to
speak to you about it; but | made up
my mind in haying time that it was
the last summer that should stay ut
home and hay it and fare as / did
then. Father is always ready to find
fault; he generally says when he gets
home: 4 don't think you've hurt
yourself working today, Philip"
And sometimes he asks me if my
back doesr't ache, I've chopped so
much or hoed so much; ard no mat
ter if l work as hard as can from
sunrise to sundown, never hear any
thing encouraging-never get one
word of praise. feel sorry to clear
out, on my mothers account. love
her, and | believe she loves me; but
if father loves me he never shows it
never speaks a tender Or kind word
to me. My mind is fully made up,
Clint. Pm going to run away; and
l want to get off tonight. Never
mind abo6t your clothes-1've got
shirts and handkcrchiefs and stock
lngs enough put up, and I'll divide
with you till we can earn more. Last
week thought it over, and thought
it would grieve mother so l pretty
much decided to give it up; but l got
so provoked the day fatl.er went to
Hartford l determined would 60
away. You see, here I've lived ever
since was born, within eighteen
miles of Hartford, never was there
nor in any other city. asked father
it Knight go with him lastJune, when
he was going, and he said that l
couldn't 60 very well then but that
l should go with him the first time
he went after haying. Well, when
he spoke of going last week, asked
him if he was going to take me along,
and he answered pretty crabbedly,
No, sir; pretty time for you to think
Of going, when the hired man is gone!
l told him that would try and get
you to come and do the chores, and
that you would be as faithful in doing
them as would be; but he wouldn't
hear word about it. l didn't feel
very light-heartcd after he was gone,
but l trid to brave it out the best |
could; and l worked hard all day
That afternoon was y dark, cloudy
afternoon, and | got up the cows and
MIXED them, a little earlier than |
supposed l did; but l don't think the
sun was five minutes high when | got
the chores done. took the news
paper and sat down in the door, SO as
to Be d6Ahand to take care Of the
/ 4 -. 4 u -