So I wrote his father, and he sent the
necessary cash for clothes, railroad ticket, etc. And one night I said,
"Tom, would you like to go home?" You can imagine Tom's answer! I took
him out and bought him clothes, got back his watch and chain from the
pawnbroker, and went with him to the Grand Central Station. I got his
ticket, put him on the train, said "Good-by and God bless you!" and Tom
was bound for home.
I receive a letter from him every month or so. I have visited his home
and have been entertained right royally by his father and mother. I
visited Tom last summer, and we did have a grand time fishing, boating,
driving, etc. I asked him, "Do you want to go back to New York, Tom?"
and he smiled and said, "Not for mine!" If any one comes from New York
and happens to say it's a grand place to make your fortune, Tom says,
"New York is a grand place to keep away from." You couldn't pull him
away from home with a team of oxen.
"He arose and went to his father." Tom fed on husks. He learned his
lesson--not too dearly learned, because it was a lasting one. He is now
a man; he goes to church and Sunday-school, where he teaches a class of
boys.
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