best that we should leave home.’  I had long feared this; and I begged of them to stay and try and bear it, at any rate till they should be older; but talking was of no use, the boys had made up their minds, and go they would.  They each took a change of clothing in a small bundle, and prepared to leave the home which had sheltered them from their infancy.  When I saw they would go, I divided the little money I had of my own between them that they might not go forth into the world entirely destitute.  I could not really blame the boys, for their father’s harsh words, day by day, was like the continual dropping which wears the stone, and the poor boys were fairly tired and worn out with being continually censured and blamed.  With a heart heavy with a sorrow which only a mother can know, I walked with the boys to the turn of the road where they were to wait for the stage.  I felt sorrowful enough but I kept back my tears till the hour sounded which announced the arrival of the stage.  They both shook hands with me and kissed me, and poor Reuben, the youngest, cried as if his heart would break.

“The sight of my youngest boy’s tears affected me beyond the power of control, and the tears were very bitter which we all shed together, but the stage was fast approaching, and we must control our grief, ’Good bye, mother,’ said the boys at last as they left me to take their places in the stage coach, ’Don’t fret about us; we will try to do right and remember all you have said to us, and let us hope there are happier days to come, for us all.’

“These were their last words to me, and they were swiftly borne from my sight by the fleet horses of the stage-coach.  This was five years ago last October.”  “But did they never come back,” said I, looking in the old woman’s face with a feeling of deep pity.  “Bless you child, no,” said she, “their father won’t allow even their names to be spoken in his hearing.  When the boys left home, they went to the State of Massachusetts, where they both learned a trade, and are doing well; they often write to me and send me money to buy any little thing I may want.  About two years ago in one of their letters they asked me to talk to their father, and try to persuade him to forgive them; they also wished to gain his consent that they might return home for a visit, ‘for,’ said they, ’since we have grown up to manhood it has caused us much sorrow that we must live estranged from our father.  Mother, we have long since cast aside the boyish resentment we may once have cherished, and would be glad to return and inform our father by word that we still feel for him the affection due from children to parents; we would gladly forget the past and be at peace for the future.’  I feared to speak of this letter to my husband, but the strong desire to see my dear boys again gave me courage, and one day when he seemed in a better humour than usual I mustered up courage, and told him what the boys had written, but my sakes’ alive, Walter,