378 



RECREA TION. 



"The healthful spirit and happiness 

 of youth, with congenial thoughts are 

 pleasant companions, my son." 



Looking up, I saw a man dressed in 

 black, with snow white locks falling to 

 his shoulders. He was reclining in the 

 shade of a tree by the road side. A 

 wide brim hat, such as the Quakers 

 wear, lay by his side. His face wore 

 that mild, benevolent expression that 

 is irresistibly attractive ; while his 

 voice had a flute-like intonation that 

 gave to the man an additional charm. 

 There was something so sweet and in- 

 viting in his beaming countenance, that 

 I unhesitatingly sat down by him. 

 He looked me over from head to foot, 

 and said, in his pleasant voice, " Thy 

 countenance, my friend, is to me like 

 the open book of nature. I read here 

 its varied mood. Thy soul is torn by 

 conflicting emotions." 



There was gentle soothing in his man- 

 ner that drew me out in spite of myself, 

 and I told him of my suspicions, of my 

 growing dislike of my brother ; of my 

 new born love. Of the former we 

 talked at length. He gave me good 

 counsel, admonishing me, to honor my 

 father in all things ; that however much 

 he might wrong me, he was the only 

 living parent God had left me, and any 

 rebellion against his authority would be 

 a source of regret in after life. He 

 condemned my sloth, while he com- 

 mended my brother's industry, and in- 

 timated that he could not decide then 

 who was to blame for the estrangement 

 that had come between us. It was plain 

 that he did not hold me blameless for, 

 as he observed, my impetuosity had 

 grievously offended my friend of an 

 hour. I was so contrite, so despairing, 

 that he finally said : 



" I have been mediator in many 

 lovers' quarrels and have brought har- 

 mony out of hopeless discord. Tell me 

 the maiden's name and I warrant I will 

 heal the breach between you." 



I started in alarm, and exclaimed 

 eagerly. 



"Oh, sir ! I have told you the state 

 of my heart in confidence. You must 

 promise me not to breathe a word to the 

 young lady without my permission." 



A sweet smile lighted his features. 



"My lad," he said, "the Lord never 

 granted me the boon of a son, yet such 

 shalt thou be to me. Come to me when 



thou needst the counsel of a friend, and 

 such as I have, I will give thee." 



" Then you promise ?" 



" I do. What is the mysterious lady's 

 name ?" 



" I do not know !" 



"Is it possible !" he exclaimed, laugh- 

 ingly, " that you two were talking a 

 whole hour without exchanging names." 



" I was so grief-stricken and anxious 

 on account of her accident that I never 

 thought of it ; besides, she exercised 

 such an influence over me I was tongue- 

 tied." 



"Thy tongue has been wagging freely 

 enough for the past hour," he said. 



" Bless me !" I exclaimed, starting to 

 my feet, " Is it indeed so long ; I had 

 intended to head them off." 



" I myself had forgotten how time 

 was flying," he remarked, rising to his 

 feet and gazing anxiously down the 

 road. " I wonder what is keeping her ?" 

 he muttered. 



" Were you expecting some one ?" 



" My daughter. She is in the habit 

 of taking early morning walks, and I 

 usually meet her on her return, when 

 we walk homeward together. I sus- 

 pect she has taken another direction 

 this morning." 



" I will walk into town with you if 

 you do not object," I said. 



" Thy company has already proven 

 very pleasant, and will shorten the long 

 path into town." 



I now noticed that my companion 

 was quite feeble and was obliged to rest 

 several times, for he had ventured be- 

 yond his usual distance in anticipation 

 of enjoying the long walk home with 

 his daughter. I ascertained during our 

 walk that he was the Rev. Mr. Sheldon, 

 of the Society of Friends. He and his 

 daughter had lately come from Phila- 

 delphia and had located in Wilkesbarre. 

 At his earnest solicitation I promised to 

 call at the meeting-house and at his 

 dwelling. 



As we neared the city, a carriage 

 passed us, and I saw that it contained 

 Steve and Mr. Farrington, a lawyer of 

 the town, who was noted for having 

 never lost a case. We received a nod 

 of recognition from the lawyer and a 

 cold stare from Steve. 



We continued our journey, and leav- 

 ing the hot lane behind us, came to the 

 brow of a hill, beneath which clustered 



