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An Illustrated Monthly Rural Magazine 
) H XL 
^ -FOR EVERY ONE WHO PLANTS A SEED OR TILLS A PLANT.- 
SUBSCRIPTIONS 50 CENTS PER YEAR. 
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ADVERTISING SPACE $5.40 PER INCH. 
d 
Vol. 6. 
MAY, 1885. 
No. 5. 
AFTER YEARS. 
BY LUCY DEWEY CLAY. 
Good morning, madam, might I stop, and sit and rest 
awhile; 
You see I am a traveling man that's come full many 
a mile. 
Yes, little woman, raise your head and look me in 
the eye, 
Why, mother, don’t you know your boy because he’s 
six feet high ? 
No! No! you mustn’t faint away nor cry because it’s 
me. 
At first, I thought I’d quiz awhile, and kind of wait 
and see 
If you’d mistrust that it was Jim; but .you looked at 
me so straight, 
My heart jumped right into my mouth, and then 
I couldn’t wait. 
Yes, I’ve come back again, mother, I’ll never leave 
you more, 
You’ll take a journey with me, now, toihe far Pacific 
shore; 
It will bring the color to your cheek, and make you 
young and spry— 
To breathe the fresh and healthy air beneath that 
sunny sky. 
I mind me very well, mother, when I was a little 
mite, 
Your cheeks were round and blooming, and your 
eyes were sparkling brigt; 
But sorrow came and paled your'cfeeek, and dimmed 
your eye with tears, 
And you’ve worn that same sad, weary look these 
many, many years. 
And I, as time fled on apace, child of your love and 
prayer, 
I brought you many a wakeful hour and many an 
anxious care; 
But I loved you all the while, mother, and in my boy¬ 
ish way, 
I, noble resolutions made and broke them every day. 
For I was young and thoughtless then, and wayward- 
some, and wild. 
And you were so forgiving, mother, toward your only 
child; 
For you knew I didn't mean a wrong, ’twas only a 
way I had 
Of mixing up the good with ill—’twas easier to be 
bad. 
But never mind all that, mother, those times are 
over now, 
And the comfort that yQu’ll take will smooth the 
lines from off your brow, 
’Twill drive the sad look from your eyes and make 
them shine as bright 
As in the good old days of yore when your heart was 
young and light. 
Ah, that was long ago, mother, before that dreadful 
day 
When one we both so fondly loved went from us far 
away; 
He kissed his dear ones o’er and o'er—there were only 
you and I — 
Ami clasped us to his aching heart as he said the 
last good-bye; 
And oh, how slowly passed the days, and how we 
sobbed and wept, 
And of our “soldier brave’’ we talked, at night, 
while others slept. 
And oh, how day and night you prayed, that God his 
life would spare, 
And comfort him and shield him with His special 
love and care. 
And then when we were waiting to greet him to his 
home, 
They tolu us lie was sleeping in a lonely Southern 
tomb.-; 
Oh, mother! it looked nark'to me, I couldn’t well 
see why 
When you had prayed so for his life, that God should 
let him die. 
And when I saw your face, mother, as pale and cold 
as death, 
And heard } r ou sob and sigh, and moan, and fairly 
gasp for breath. 
It hurt me, mother, and I felt my heart grow hard 
towards Him 
Who took the one you needed most, and left you 
ordy Jim. 
