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HE night before -
' ; ' ' fore Tlianks-
r rtI s , tjgiving ! 7 ! And i , how
t + Dlatthew Tor-
, , r a n e e slipped
the little cabin
window back over its channeled
grooves. The prospect of turbid greenish -
ish waves below , and white , fast-falling
wildernesses of snow obscuring the atmosphere -
mosphere above was scarcely so enlivening -
' ening as the cheery coal fire within , and
the lamp swinging softly from the low ,
arched roof.
The Falling Leaf-she was only a little -
tle sailing vessel , bound to the bleak
shores of Maine from a Sicilian port-
was within a day's sail of home , and
her two passengers , long exiled from
the rocky coast of their nativity , were
alone together , trying to realize that
their journey's end was so near.
Matthew Torrance walked up and
down the warm cabin with folded arms
and downcast eyes , whose lambent fire
contrasted strangely with the streaks of
Silver in his luxuriant black hair. Suddenly -
denly he paused , and turned abruptly
to the old man who sat directly underneath -
neath the circle of light thrown by the
swinging lamp.
"What are you reading , Mr. Hayes ? "
The old gentlem ii looked up with a
tranquil smtle.
"The book I read oftenest , Mr. Tor-
rance-the book that answers to every
want and mood of my nature. "
"Oh , the Bible. Can-can you find the
parable of the Prodigal Son ? "
"Yes. "
"It seems as if I should like to hear
that to-night"
Samuel Hayes turned to the place
and softly read aloud the sweet old Bible -
ble story. As his voice died away Torrance -
rance drew a deep , long sigh.
"I s > Sppose that parable is meant to
illustrate God's patience and long suffering -
fering ? "
"Undoubtedly. "
"Ah ! but that prodigal son only
spent his substance and wasted his life
foolishly. He was not beyond the pale
of forgiveness. "
Th old minister pushed his spectacles -
tacles up on his forehead.
"What do you mean ? "
Matthew Torrance stopped in front of
the table.
1 - "I had a friend once-a near and dear
friend , who-well , lie had his faults , I ,
won't deny that. He was a wild , passionate -
sionate fellw , but there Zvere good
points about him , too. He had a twin
brother , and one day , in a sudden gust
of rage-there was plenty of provocation -
tion , for both loved the same girl , and
she was a heartless coquette-he raised
his hand against this brother , and- "
"Well. . . "
"And murdered him ! hided him !
Struck him down as Cain struck Abel.
Then he fled the country , and has never
been heard of since. But , if I know m ,
friend's nature , he has repented it long
and bitterly since-repented it with an
anguish of despair that is past description -
tion ! Now tell me , Mr. IIayes , is there
mercy and'forgiveness for "
such as he ?
'I '
'Though your sins be as scarlet they
shall be white as snow ! though they
be red like crimson , they shall be white
as wool ! ' softly repeated the old cler-
gyman.
"Yes , " replied Matthew ; "but such a
sin ! My God ! Cain bore the accursed
mark of murder to his grave ! "
"There Is forgiveness tor all within
the limits of infinite love ! "
Matthew Torrance resumed his walk
and said no more ; and through the tempest -
pest and darkness of the November
night the little Failing Leaf plodded on
towards the beacon lights that starred
the far-off , rock-bound coast of Maine.
And when the lurid light of dawn fluttered -
tered its sullen banners athwart the
east they ran merrily into port , with
snow-covered rigging and bulwarks
ridged with royal ermine.
Matthew Torrance was home again
after twenty long years of exile and
solitude.
"It's a perilous business , " said Matthew -
thew to himself , "but I can't endure ! t
any longer. I am .changed in every respect -
spect ; my own mother would sccrcely
know me now ; and I must breathe in
the air of home once more or I shall
die ! "
Matthew plodded up the hill where
the hazel copses grew , and the dead
leaves rustled softly in the hollows under -
der the road. Half-way up the hill a little -
tle church nestled among the low-grow-
ing pines and spruces , with white-
gleaming stones sloping down the descent -
scent behind. Matthew Torrance
turned away his head with a shudder.
"lie lies buried there , " he murmured ,
with a face that was paler than ashes ;
"he , the fair-haired brother Paul , that
was almost 1ltc a portion of myself , the
'brother that I murdered. Oh , God ! the
years of anguish and remorse that I
have endured might almost have atoned
for it , and yet-yet-why did I return
to re-open the old wounds ? Shall I turn
back even now ? It is not yet too late. "
1-le stood a moment irresolute.
"No-I will go on-I will take one
peep into the old window where the
cinnamon roses grew-the window of
the keeping-room-and then I will go
forth once more into my exile and soli-
tude. Alas ! it is a hard punishment to
endure for one act of heedless passion
-a hard , hard punishment-and yet I
must bear it to the bitter end. "
"Shall I light the candles , Uncle
Ebenezer ? "
"What for , child ? Isn't a sight pleasanter -
anter to sit here by the blaze of these
hickory logs ? What do you say ,
mother ?
Mrs. Torrance started.
"I-I don't know ; what was ft you
asked me , Ebenezer ? I was thinking
about something else. "
She was a mild-faced matron , with
large hazel eyes , once bright as jewels ,
but now dim with many tears-a matron -
tron whose silver hair lay in shining
bands over a furrowed brow , and Eben-
ezer , a bowed down old man , sitting
opposite in his easy-chair , had something -
thing of the same trouble in his face.
But Clara Willis , kneeling on the rug
between them , with her bright face
turned to the fire , was lovely enough
to redeem the darker shadows. Blue-
eyed , with hair of reddish brown , lit up
with golden gleams , cheeks velvet red
and dimpled , and lips like cut coral ,
you never would have believed that
Clara had passed her thirty-sixth year.
There are some faces to which capricious -
ous Nature has granted the bean of
perennial youth , and Clara's was one of
these ,
"Well , just as you please , uncle , " said
Clara , straightening the folds of the
ruffled white apron that she wore. "Sup-
per is all ready. "
She looked around with a glance of
housewifely pride at the daintily gar-
NUT. TO l3E TREATED LIGHTLY. .
-
-
N
, L r .4 / ° . gilt ,
rr /aye. . . . _ 5K' 'H' ralC'C-ot r I + y- ' G4 \
The Pride of the Farm-"How now , Monsieur Iteynard' Are you taking
. chickens , when your preference for turkey is so well known ? I consider that
. .a personal slight ! "
\ , .
, . .
-
rA' _ 4- ' #
.
1
nished table that was spread in the ecn-
ter of the apartment. It was 'a very
old-fashioned room , with a home-made
carpet , and curtains trimmed with
knotted fringe , while the window seats
were full of thrifty geraniums and
petunias. A tall clock in the corner
ticked monotonously , and the brass candlesticks -
dlesticks gleamed. from the mantel as
brightly as if they had bean fashioned
out of gold.
"A quarter past five , " said Ebenezer
Torrance , adjusting his iron spectacles
to glance at the clock. "I don't see
what keeps that boy so. Clara , I 'most
wish you could have' made up your
mind to marry him , and then we
shouldn't ha' had him chasing down to
Squire Dean's after Margaret half the
time. There , child , you needn't turn so
pale-I'm not in earnest. "
Mrs. Torrance put out her motherly
hand to smooth Clara's golden hair , as
the fair woman shrank as from a blow.
"Clara , Clara , it wasn't your fault"
"But it was my fault , Aunt Miriam--
it was my fault. Do I not know where
your thoughts have been all this day ,
when other mothers have their happy
families gathered around them ? Oh ,
Aunt Miriam , If I could only have died
instead ! "
At this moment , while the firelight
was filling the homely room with such
a glow and fulness of ruddy life , Matthew -
thew Torrance was slowly toiling up
tile. road , in the chill gloom of the fast
darkening night. As he paused a moment -
ment to rest against the gnarled trunk
of a deformed willow , where he had
many and many a time played as a boy ,
a tall , straight figure passed him , stridIng -
Ing swiftly along and whistling an old-
fashioned air. As it passed , Matthew
shrank back as if a sword had pierced
his heart.
"He used to whistle that tune. I have
not heard it in twenty years before. "
So Matthew toiled on.
There it was , the old familiar light in
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the old familiar window , gleaming out
like a star.
Torrance hesitated.
Am I right in pressing on ? Who
knows but one coveted glance may
bring sharper pain than years of silence
and doubt ? Who knows but that the
chairs ore empty , the hearthstone surrounded -
rounded by other faces and forms ?
Ctirere it not best to leave the old homestead -
stead shrouded in merciful uaccrtainty ?
No ; I have dared too much to pause
now. "
He softly lifted the latch of the garden -
den gate and passed up the narrow
path. .
Yes ; there was leis father , old and
silverhaired , but living still ; and his
mother sat opposite , with the half-fin-
ished stocking on the gleaming needles ,
just it had been twenty years ago , and
the black silk holiday dress fastened
at the throat with the little gold
fashioned like a sea shell , that he remembered -
membered so well. And Clara , as beautiful -
tiful as ever , with a ripened , mature
loveliness , how royally the fire turned
her heavy coronals of hair to coils of
gold , as rho bent to light the tall candles -
dles in the polished brass candlesticks.
Like a sleeping giant the old love rose
up once more in his heart as he looked
on the face of the girl whose syren-like
charms had maddened him to the one
desperate act of his life. And-rather
of all mercies ! was he dreaming , or was
the great horror of his darkest anticipations -
pations overwhelming him-madness ?
Even as he looked , a tall figure passed
from an obscure part of the room into
the full glow of fire and candles , stand-
jug with one hand on the old lady's
shoulder.
"Paul' Paul ! "
The words strove to shape themselves -
selves , but the parched tongue refused
to give them utterance. Matthew Torrance -
rance struggled like a man under the
dreadful spell of nightmare.
"Hush ! " said Clara , suddenly pans-
,
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Ins to listen. "What noise is that outside -
side ? " ' -
"Only the wind among the bushes ;
how nervous you are getting , puss. "
"No-but , Paul , do ; please , look ; I
thought I heard some one's voice. "
Paul Torrance burst into a merry
laugh , half derisive , half fond , and
strode to the door. '
"Of course there's no one here ; I told
you so , Clara , but hold on , though !
Hallo , you ! what are you doing under
our windows ? "
He made a step forward , but stopped
suddenly , holding his : hand to his
breast as if a ball had pierced it.
"Mother , It's Matthew ! it's our Matthew -
.
thew ! "
And the two brothers , separated by
long years and racking doubts , were
in each other's arms before Clara could
reach the door.
In after years , Matthew Torrance
never could have told how he reached
the wide , cheery fire-place , nor how ho
found his mother sobbing on his breast ,
and his father clasping both his hands ,
while Clara-foolish little Clara , hid
away behind the big geraniums , and
cried as if her heart would break. He
only felt that he was at home once
more-free , safe , happy.
"Paul ! " lie stammered , "come , here
and let me look at you-let me feel your
hands. 'Oh , my brother ! I thought I
had murdered you ! "
Paul burst into a laugh.
"You didn't hit quite hard enough ,
old boy ; my skull was thicker than you
thought for. Oh , Mat ! why have you
hidden yourself away from us all these
y ears ? "
And Paul's laugh became a sob.
"But we won't be fools ! " said Paul ,
resolutely. "Clara , come here , you'
little goose ! Don't be afraid to take
her hand , Mat ! She loved you best ,
and she has been waiting patiently for
you twenty years. "
"DAT'POSSUIVI SMELL POW'FUL GOOD. "
I
"Paul . ' " faltered Clara , reproachfully.
"Cell , what's the matter ? If you'll
only expedite matters a little , we can
have two weddings at once. for I'm to
be married to Maggie Dean next month ,
old Mat. "
The twenty yews of trial were over ,
and Matthew Torrance kept Thanksgiving -
ing under his own roof-tree , with a
heart that needed no proclamation to
stimulate its intensity of gratitude.
THANKSGIVING PICTURE.
What if the gold of the corn lands
Is faded to sombre gray ?
Aril what ! f the down of the thistle
Is ripened and scattered away ?
There's gold in the gathered harvest ;
There's homely and heartsome cheer ;
And so we will be full joyous-
The day of thanksgiving is here.
A sigh for the vanished splendor
Of the autumn's purple and red-
For the golden-rod that is whitened ,
For the gentian boom : that is dead ;
Then turn to the hearthstone cheery ;
Behold , 'tis the time of year
To count our blessings and mercies-
The day of thanksgiving is here.
Bare and brown in the shadows ,
The meadowland meets the gaze ,
Where the bold , blithe bee went seex
lug
Its sweets in the summer days.
The honey is stored in plenty
So what if the winter is near ?
The time is not one for repining-
The day of thanksgiving is here.
The fruit has matured in its season ,
The sunshine has ripened the seed ,
Then sing to the Lord of the harvest'
A song of thanksgiving indeed.
The morn and the noon have passed by
us ;
'Tis the sweet afternoon of the year ;
So I t not your tribute be lacking-
The day of thanksgiving is here.
An Expensive Dinner.
A trio were sitting on the postofco
guard rail one night telling stories.
One of them related this : "I know of
a fellow who had spent a very quiet
life in the country and had never been
to the city. Coming intoa little money
he suddenly developed a desire to be a
sport and immediately departed for the
city. It was his habit after arriving
to lounge around the corners in the
central part of the city , and lie naturally -
ally heard the gilded youth taking
about the amount of money they
spent.
" 'Say , I had a great dinner last
night , ' he heard one say , 'and it cost
me ° Q. '
"Many other remarks like this he
heard , and the rustic sport decided to
get into the swim too. lie made up his
mind at once to get an eanenive din
ncr , not realizing that the most of the
money spent by the boasters he had
overheard had been for wine. Walking -
ing into a swell restaurant , he called
the waiter over. 'Say , look here , ' said
he , 'I want an expensive dinner like
the best of the bloods. Bring me H2O
worthr of'ham and eggs. ' "
horseradish growing has been
brought to the point where best cultivated -
vated will sell at prices nearly double
those realized for the root when indifferent -
ferent in quality. New Jersey supplies -
plies a large part of the eastern demand -
mand , best selling inew York at $7
to $ S per 1CO lbs. This is for cultivated
horseradish of one year's growth and
grown by experts. The finest grade
sells in Boston at $10 per 1001bs , when
washed , and 4S unwashed , with infe
rior and dirty stuff laehing in strength
and attractiveness all the way down to
S2.aO and $3. At Yew Haven limited
sale at horseradish should be
washed before shipping.
41Alfafa ffit111ht1F1hP1N11/11I tYr111tYN1h'hRfb)1
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L I GO VE YI
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No chaifge of digit ever ne.essary. Cat
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Dose , one tablespoonful in water at bed.
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Dealers send for Catalogues. Omaha , Neb.
tjdvire ss rn ratentahility of , I
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® candy cathartic cure eeistlpation. Purely vegetable , srneo.i and
easy , soldby du ; its ercrywaerc , guaranteed to care , osip f03. t
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= How many Pale folic ' '
/ there are I People who i
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have the .llbut.no o er )
, to bring out their vitality ;
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\o'o4a , + ti _ _ so that one da Y s wor.- I I I r.
_ F,14 es six da s s1c. ness 1 i
People who have no ifs ;
or resisting disease--thin people , nerveless , delicate 1 . ,
The food for all such men , women , or children 1S SCOTT'S
E'11ULSION. The byPoPhosP hates combined with the oil 3
will tone up the system , give the blood new life improve jj ' .
the appetite and help digestion. The sign of new life will ,
be a fattening and reddening a , which brings with it strength ,
comfort and good-nature. 1
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Re sures'augrt Scales when you want it and gat a cheap substitute. . I
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Scott & owne , 1\w York. Al ! . $ .
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