All his sorrow, all the injustice of the night before came rushing
back to his mind.
Hastily dressing himself, and then taking from his desk paper and pen,
he wrote:
You have told me to get out of your sight, father. I shall. You
will never see me again. You need not search for me. I am going
to try and find my mother. When Eddie is better, you will hear
the truth, and feel your injustice to WILLIE.
Folding this, and leaving it on his table, he stole down and made his
way into town, not quite determined what to do. His first thought was
to seek the river, and in its quiet waters end his sorrows. Oh! why
would not death come to him?
How quiet the city was! Usually so many were stirring about at that
hour. No market wagons or bread carts about. Oh, now he remembered, it
was Thanksgiving Day.
On he walked, and then came in sight of the church where his mother
used to go, and then memories of all her holy teachings. Should he
find her if he attempted self-destruction?
What could he do? He could not live on! Surely God would forgive him!
Then he thought he would go once more into that church, and
then--Heaven only knows what next. Waiting in the park until church
time, he retraced his steps and reached the door just as the beautiful
hymn, "Come, ye disconsolate," rose into the air.
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