I've Been Thinking; or, the Secret of SuccessRoe, A. S. (Azel Stevens)
General
I've Been Thinking; or, the Secret of Success
Roe, A. S. (Azel Stevens)
Conduct of life -- Fiction; Diligence -- Fiction; Success -- Fiction
Henry Tracy had made a busy day of it; he had met with unexpected
success in engaging scholars, and had procured a room in a building,
once used as a court-house, in which to hold his school. Gratified with
his prospects, he sat down to the clean supper table with the Widow
Andrews and her daughter, with feelings much more buoyant than could
have been expected in one so young, for the first time a sojourner among
strangers. He delighted them by the ease and pleasantness of his
manners, so that when he retired, which he did soon after supper, the
Widow Andrews looked at her daughter, and lifting her hands in
expression of her admiration--
'Who could ever ha' thought of it? Why, it's jist as easy talkin' to him
as to Uncle Sam Cutter.'
'Oh, mother! its as easy agin'.'
The moon was in all her splendor, and her pale rays fell trembling
through the foliage of the cottage. Taking a seat by the window, Henry
looked out upon the beautiful night, and his heart filled with emotions
to which he had hitherto been a stranger.
Home, that idea so satisfying to the soul, that spot to which our wishes
fly when in sickness or sorrow, was nought to him now but the
resting-place of his past joys and trials--a beautiful vision that had
left an impress on his heart, which time could not obliterate; although,
like a vision, it had passed away, his bosom heaved with the swelling
thoughts that rolled like ocean waves heavier and mightier in upon him.
He drew from his breast a golden locket and unclasping it, held the
miniature it enclosed beneath the rays of the moon; his lips trembled,
as the sacred name of '_mother_' broke from them. 'Yes, I will ever
think of thee, thy sweet love has made my home a paradise, and thy pure
piety and gentle counsels have won me to the path of peace. My Saviour's
image hast thou ever borne before me, until my heart has learned to
love Him as my best and dearest friend. Oh, may my life be such as thy
last dying prayer entreated it might be; and may I be led by the Holy
Spirit in the way that leads to where thou art.'
CHAPTER XI.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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