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An old-fashioned Card-party — The Clergyman’s verses — The Story of the Convict’s Return

           Thefather,withalittleboyinhisarms,appearedatthedoor,andtheycrowdedroundhim,clappingtheirtinyhands,anddragginghimout,tojointheirjoyoussports.Theconvictthoughtonthemanytimeshehadshrunkfromhisfather’ssightinthatveryplace.Herememberedhowoftenhehadburiedhistremblingheadbeneaththebedclothes,andheardtheharshword,andthehardstripe,andhismother’swailing;andthoughthemansobbedaloudwithagonyofmindasheleftthespot,hisfistwasclenched,andhisteethwereset,inafierceanddeadlypassion.

           ‘Andsuchwasthereturntowhichhehadlookedthroughthewearyperspectiveofmanyyears,andforwhichhehadundergonesomuchsuffering!Nofaceofwelcome,nolookofforgiveness,nohousetoreceive,nohandtohelphimandthistoointheoldvillage.Whatwashislonelinessinthewild,thickwoods,wheremanwasneverseen,tothis!

           ‘Hefeltthatinthedistantlandofhisbondageandinfamy,hehadthoughtofhisnativeplaceasitwaswhenheleftit;andnotasitwouldbewhenhereturned.Thesadrealitystruckcoldlyathisheart,andhisspiritsankwithinhim.Hehadnotcouragetomakeinquiries,ortopresenthimselftotheonlypersonwhowaslikelytoreceivehimwithkindnessandcompassion.Hewalkedslowlyon;andshunningtheroadsidelikeaguiltyman,turnedintoameadowhewellremembered;andcoveringhisfacewithhishands,threwhimselfuponthegrass.

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