"Mother!"
"O, Benjamin!"
And his mother threw her arms about his neck, weeping tears of joy.
Benjamin wept, too. He began to realize what months of agony his
absence had caused the woman who bore him.
"Can it be you, my son? I have mourned for you as dead," she said, as
soon as she could command her feelings. "Where have you been?"
"In Philadelphia. Has not Captain Homes told you where I was?"
"Not a word from him about it."
"He wrote to me from Newcastle three months ago, and I replied to his
letter. I supposed that you had heard all about it before this time."
"We have not heard the least thing from you since you left," said his
father; "and they have been seven very long and painful months."
"How painful, Benjamin, you can never know," added his mother.
"Sometimes it has seemed as if my old heart would break with grief;
but I have tried to cast my burden on the Lord. If you had staid at
home and died, my sorrow could not have been so great."
"Let it end now," replied Benjamin, with a smile, "for I am here
again."
"Yes, I thank my God, for 'this my son was dead, and is alive again;
he was lost, and is found.'" And his mother came almost as near to
death with joy, as she had been before with sorrow.
They sat down together, when Benjamin rehearsed his experience since
leaving Boston, not omitting to state the cause of his sudden
departure, and the reason of his return.
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