Page:The Granite Monthly Volume 1.djvu/215

 THE OLD FARM.

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��had attended the little district school un- til they had passed the scope of the in- struction it afforded. No berrying trip in summer, or nutting in the autumn, no coasting time on a moonlight winter night afforded pleasure for one without the others. But Charles was ever the special attendant and protector of Nel- lie. No knight-errant in chivalric ages ever manifested more ardent devotion to his lady love than that shown fair little Nellie by her foster brother Charles. They two had also attended, for a few terms, the academy in a neighboring town, an educational luxury which few of the young people of the neighborhood were enabled toj enjoy, while Edward had remained at home, assisting his father in the farm work, an occupation to which he was ardently attached. And here was one of the marked points of dif- ference between the two boys. While Charles warmly returned the affection of his foster parents, and never shirked any labor or duty, his heart was not in the work when engaged upon the farm. His restless spirit longed for contact with the world. Farm life was to him a humdrum existence, productive of neither honor nor satisfaction, and so it had been final- ly determined that he should follow his desire and find occupation in the city. " After haying " he was to go, and the time had come. There was one day — the Sabbath — only remaining for him at home. That day was one long to be re- membered by the little household at the Watson farm. It was the last, as it proved, which the unbroken family were to spend together upon earth ; the day, too. which brought to Nellie the realiza- tion of the fact that her affection for Charles was something stronger than a sister's love, though the latter had spok- en no word of his intense love for her. But the day passed, as all days must, the evening was soon gone, and when the family retired for the night, it was with sorrowful thought of the parting which the early morn must bring, for the stage which was to carry Charles to the rail- road station at E, a dozen miles

away, passed the "Falls" at seven o'clock.

There were no late risers at the Wat-

��son cottage that Monday morning of Charles Bradley's departure. While Nellie was preparing breakfast, Mrs. Watson, with all a mother's thoughtful care, attended to the final packing of Charles' wardrobe, and many a little ar- ticle of comfort and convenience which none but a mother would have thought of, was snugly stowed away in the big trunk which held all the earthly posses- sions of the young aspirant for worldly position and honor. Mr. Watson, a man of three score years and feeble health, walked the floor in silence, with sad and downcast look, uttering no word of re- gret, but evidently feeling as keenly as any could the grief of coming separation from him whom he had reared and loved as a son, and fain would have kept at home through his declining years, though consenting to his departure when he found the young man's heart was so ar- dently set upon going. Edward busied himself without, doing up the morning work at the barn, and harnessing " Old Billy," the favorite family horse, to the Concord wagon, to take Charles and his baggage to the " Falls " in time to meet the stage.

Charles himself had gone out for a last visit to certain favorite localities about the farm. He took a run through the or- chard, raised himself once more into the top of the old " August sweet" tree, from amid whose branches he had year after year plucked the first ripe apple of the season, passed up the old land to the pasture, down through the " west field," by the great elm, under whose cooling shade he had so often rested from labor in the hot summer afternoons, thence home through the " south lot," passing the " big rock," around and upon which in childhood days, with Edward and Nel- lie, he had played many a sportive game.

Breakfast was soon over. None felt like eating, and scarcely a word was spoken during the meal. Every heart was too full for utterance. And now the hour of parting had come. A broken "goodbye and God bless you," with a hearty hand clasp from Mr. Watson; a warm embrace, a tender kiss, and a whis- pered benediction from her who had been to him all that the truest mother could

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