A Father's Story And Thanksgiving

AVhy. wiíe. wliat in it pk-aaeR you? What mojíes you Kft'také o'n? You Hun'Iy ïnust be craay; or maybe you've heard from John- ïctthatis hardly liktay, as Éte's hen live years L away, And I eanscarcely daré to hopo you've board front him to-ay. frjT] We never have o'en heard from him, anl yt 'tlio day may como When ve can welcome home again our longabsented aon; And, thoui?h tWTP be no fatted calf, wel try to make h-ini teel 'l'li at here. so long as wt'v3 tu nhare, ht-'d never ■ft-ant a me Al. :WlL Jl Poor boy ! how sad he looked that day when biddür you good-by. And, though he spoke quite clieerfully, a-tear otood in each eye. I think he would have talked to me, but I had turned to go, For i was angry with him then- but why I hardly know. You know that books Mere ever a great ijleasure to our boy - It &h aya seemed that nothing else could give hiin so niuch joy; Just let him get his hands on one, he'd go and hide away, - And read along from moni till night, while other boys would play. And, wifo, you know that my oíd dad had nrver been to school. And many times Tve heard him say it made a boy a fooi, This givin him book-learnin1, for they'd only come to harm, Nor would they be content to stay and work upon the farm. And I, I guesB, must be like him; for, when I saw our Jolin Sit porin' o"er his books all day. instead of helpln' on. And doiu1 work about the place. I thought the boy no good, And so I did not use him well, &h I. hia father. should. But, what was worst of all, one day I took away a book Which he had lately borrowed, and threw it in the brook ; And, had you soen, as I did, the look he gave me then. You would not wonder why I wish to seo my boy agaiii. Our John, .poör boy ! he thought at laüt 'twas best for him to go Aud flnd a home away from here, aud then he told me so ; And I was very willin", for I tliought. when once away. He'd hanker to get back again, and then contented stay. But years have passed away since then, and we have never heard A word of good or ill report; and, íf my eyes are blurred lly tears at times, it is because I do not feel the same -_____, As once I did toward our boy. for now T take the blame; Eoihadl been but kind to him. we still would have him hore, To comfort us and L-heatJis, uow o Hl age is trawing near. But &ow. pèrhaps it is tea late, aud ho may never come To gladden ue, who long for him, aud. wait for him. at home. - "■ Ah, well ! I have been punishëd. and' sometimës I'm nearly wild When thinking how I treated him, our boy, our only child. I know it cannot last long. for soniething tells me so, Nor would I mimi it. oculd I sec our boy before I go. And you, his mother. have grown old and gray beyond your years; And, thougli you ti-y to hide theni, vet I often see the tears; And nothin" seeniB to pleaso you now as once it used to do. Oh, would that I had died myself ere trouble carne to you ! I saw our parson here to-day. I hope his folks are He carne to make a cali you say. What news had I know tfcert must Tp soiaeQnn', for yoiï look morü Thnii r lávsD-j-ou all thesf.' years that John has He brought a letter, did you say, from him- what! from our Johnï Which says that he will soon be homo'. No wonder you take on ! Thank God! for He has heard my prayer, and fllled my soul witü joy. And taken aorrow from my heart by sendin' back our boy. And now let us kneel down and ask that God His grace may give. And shower His blessing on our boy as long as he shall Uve; And. when to-morrowls dawn has come, and John ia here to stay. Well thank the Lord why gave to us a trae Thanks-trivin -day. ilAfc ■