Raftsman's journal. (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, August 23, 1854, Image 1

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CQME AND TAKE ME. DcYivisn'."'
VOL 1:
CLEAliFlELD, VEI)NES1)AY, AUGUST; 23, : J&4.
RO. 8.
raits wax's journal:
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Raftsman's Journal," Clearfield. Pa., (post-paid to
receive attention.)
ECHOES. :, :
Hark ! through nature's vast cathedral,
. - ; Blended echocs.ever rise,
dwelling in a mighty anthem
To its over-arching skies.
.Every bird that eings in summer,
Every honey-laden bee, . , .
Every squirrel in the forest. -,
Every cricket on the tree ;
Every music-dropping fountain, -.
Every softly murmuring rill,
.Every dark and foaming tonrent? ,.
Every water-guided mill ;
. Every rain-drop on the house top,
Every beetle's noisy drone. ...
. Every footfall on the pavement,
Wakes an echo of its own.
.Fobs of woo and songs of gladness,
. Each responsive echoes find : .
Words of love and words of anger.
Leave their echoes far behind.
. Every great and noble action,
. ..Is re-echoed "er.and o'er ; ,:, '
Life itself is but .an echo . ., .. ..
Of the livas that were before
SOMETnLNG ADVANTAGEOUS ;
r : OB, A FAMILY FBACAS.
I once attended a very poor old man, of. the
name of Jordan, in his last illness. I call him
poor, yet he was not in want, and had about
him the comforts of life. When he was near
Lis end he said to me
"Doctor, I want to know the truth from you.
: I am not in the habit of being flattered by the
world. There was a time indeed, when it fool
ed me to the top of my bent 4". but th was
long ago. Do not flatter me, but tell me your
real opinion.; Shall . I soon die, or shall I yet
linger on a brief career in a world .1 jam quite
willing to be done with ?" .;
. "Yon desire me," replied T, "to be candid
with yon, and I will. ; You arc on your death
bed. " ' :
"How soon shall I be immortal ?"
"-' 1 ' "That I cannot say.' , But your hours, as far
" as human. experience can permit rne to predict,
, are numbered."
He "was silent for a few moments, and a
slight spasm crossed his face. '
' . "Well," he said,' "It is the', lot of all. I
- have lived long enough." .-..
. "Is there no friends or relations, Mr-Jor-'
dan,' said T, "to whom ''you would wish to
send ? .' You are, .here, as you: have often told
. me, quite, alone i in your lodgings, v Perhaps
yon would like torevivesome old recollections
Vtefore von leave the world.',' . 1 . ' ' ' ',,''
; v.2Vpt ne;" he said., -.j ... , ; ; ? ; j ;
; : -'Are you so completely isolated ?"-:.---''"Most
completely.5 '' I have tried all rela-
tions' and found themnwanting. But still; I
'.. have remembered them, ..and made my will.
! It is now between the mattress and the sacking
'f this bed, and Mr:: Shawthe only honest at
torney' I hare ever met with" and who resides
. in Lincoln's Inn Fields, will carry my inten
y tions. into effect.; I was rich once in early life.
- How dark a davT" ' '-: ' -w- '.-'.'.' -' ;-? i
"What day ?'' ..;,. ,jf,:,.fi. -;H ;:.t!. jW.:-
To-day. How 'dark and mibty it has come
WW doctor!" ' ;; !
''His sight was going fast, and I felt certain
, ,that it would require but little patience, and a
( small sacrifice of time, to see the -last of.MK
Jordawv?-.-Jil uy. U -' ;' ' ,"' ;
'!'"Yes,' he continued '.to 'speak in :an odd,
, .ap'aaniodic fashion, " Yes, I was rich, and had
-many a crawling" sycophant about .' me, : wjiy
' TuiHng faces at my boajtl; the rcam;a
' "Averse, and; !U fair .fc at:j sudden frost
my friend. their fcead. I wm nearly des
ana Tliiting'ait)clicying that: the 'tie
of Hood would-be strong .enough to bind to
ane in my -s distresses,, those , 'with . whom I
claimed kindred and who have been delight
'Vd lo'claim kindred with' rae, I went to them
visit or.!'
. -,v And failed", , !
"And-failedas .fou-say They dropped
from moneby .oneISonie remembered slight
.'offences; some were sorer at home,8omc:read
" ily thougntyl mnst have been dreadfttlly im
' .'provident jand ' untsr they', "were convinced I
.. .had not been,cpuld notassibt me,' ' Doors wqre
' &ht in my face window blinds, pulled down
'as I passed' I aV shunned as apestilcricc'-r-"
my clotheswere in higsniy step' feeble from
.Jong x want fjf , common,, necessaries r :and
then an oid cliool companion died in the West
Indies, and left me' twenty thousand pounds,
' which I received through the handa of Mr.
,5haw."
"A large fortune. And your relations ?" :
'Heard it, and were frantic. I disappear
ed from them all. From' that day to this they
have not heard of" me. Do you love wild
flowers 1" ' .
"Wild flowers ?"
"Yes. Here are herbs, just from the tcem
ing 'gafden. Look,' too, how yon cherub
twines them in her hair J The stream flows
deep to eternity." -' 1 '
"Mr. Jordan, sir,"' I cried, "Mr. Jordan do
you know me?"
. "Come hither, laughing "gentle spirit," he
said. "Bring with you your, heap of floral
gems. Yes I know this is the sweetest violet,
Mary my Mary. God knows that I loved
you." ,
.It was a strange thing at that moment, but
the blind of the window, which I had drawn
up to the top, came suddenly down,' and the
room was quite dark. I raised it again, and
then turned to the bed ; Mr. Jordan was ; a
corpse ! ' ; . . '.' " '
What a remarkable clwnge had in those few
moments come. over the old man's face! The
sharp lines of age had all disappeared, and
thire tvas a calm lenign expression upon the
still features, such as in life I never saw them
wear." '.. - i ' ' :
"A restless spirit is at ieace," I said, as I
felt for the will where he told me it was placed,
and found it. . It was merely tied up with, a
piece of red tape, and addressed to Mr: Shaw,
20 Lincoln's Inn Fields, so I resolved to trust
to no other messenger, but to take it in my
hands myself. . I told the landlady, of the
house that her lodger was no more, and that
she would no doubt heay immediately from his
solicitor, and then I left. -. . .
"Well, Mr. Shaw," I said, after I bad men
tioned to him the manner of Mr.: Jordan's
death, "here ig the will, sir; I presume I have
nothing further to. do tliau . to thank you for
your courtesy, and to bid you good evening."
"Stay a moment," he said. "Let me ' look
at the document, llntnph! a strange will.
He leaves the form of an advertisement here,
which is to be inserted in the morning paper
calling his relations together to hear the 'will
read."..(- . . ,. . '
- "Indeed." .. .
" "Yes. "WelL; I "shall, as 1 sec'Tiiae T- ajn
named trustee do as he wishes. ..He states that
he isTJvery poor." ' . , ': ; 1
"Why, he spoke to mcl .of .20,000 !" ' !
"Did he really 7 A delusion, sir, quite a de
lusion.: 20, WO I He had that amount twenty-five
years ago. : But,' 'sir, as you have at
tended him, and as I happen to know( he had a
high opinion of you, I should like you as his
friend; to be with me, as it were, in future pro
ceedings connected with this will.-' :' . - '';
In which there is a mystery, eh, Mr.' Shaw? '
fA .little perhaps a little bit of post-mortem
revengc,that is all,which I am not now at liberty
to descant upon; But I will take care to coin
cide with you, aiid I sh:ill hope that you will
follow an old friend to the grave." . -' '
I promised that much, "and duly attended
the funeral. ' It was a quiet," walking affair,
and from thc manne.r of it I felt quite , convin
ced that there was no funds to make it other-.;
wise. A:mound of earth alone marked; the
spot,' iii the liftle churchyard at Barnes; where
Mr. Jorda.n slept the sleep that knows, no .wa-j
king; Aidrizzliag rain came down. The air
was cold and eager, and I returned home from
the funeral of Mr. Jordan about as uneomfort
.aJble as I eoiild. . ... - , ; , ' j ., . '
,'." ' .' ' ' :.. '
' The next day the : following advertisement
appeared in .the ' "mofning piiper, 'and caught
my. eye as I sat at breakfast :, ..... ...
"If any of the relations of Mri John James
Jordan, deceased, will call at the- office of Mr.
Shaw 20 Lincoln's Inn Fields, they will "hew
somethingdxantageius."..-. . ' j
I mado up my mind to call, oa Mrj Shaw du
ring the dayj and about three o'clock reached
his chambers? r rathet I reached the stairea.se
leading to them,' arid there I had to stop- for
it w.as quite besieged, by men and women, who
were all conversing with great eagerness. 1 '
i What can it me'ab: ?" said one old woman;
"I'm his aant, and of course A speak for my
jsfed ;rf"'i.---V,'- . ... .',.' -:.!.::.".-. L'
"WeU. tWher your X.;:: said a man;
Me har lociongs to theTamily.. I'm hi bro-ther-
Think of that Mrs. Dean ?ff h ; . , . r ! "
i "Think of what I ye t wo' legged goose !" .' '
.' 'P6h, poh V said another man knew
Mm very well. . .Tm his'.'couain. .'Hilloa! '
what's this f ho are you?", r . ; ' '
A woman in tattered garments, but who stilt
looked like a beautiful one, stood hesitatingly
,at the foot ff the stairs., rt K .'.. ,,j J';..'.'. '
, t "Is. this Mr. : Shaw's ?5shc said. .' "Hush,
Mary, hush! don't my dear.'.'.V'.;5 i!'.' I. '"
' '. li'Buf I'm hungry, mamma," said a little girl,
who was, holding by a handful of her dress. J
-:"Ob,' Mary, do not,:! here ; we we' shall
soon" go home.' 'Hush deary'; hush !' Is this
Mr. Shaw's!" W3y--'-"-"-- ;
"Yes," said a ft woman; "and.wha is you,
pray j. ,.-. .-; ? ' ; - i-
''sl't saw'an advertisement. ; I am his sis
ter ' G race's' only eliil!,, .Mj- iiame is Mary
Grantham-, ;.This is J my -only ...child: Shej
shc 1s fatherless and h:ia been 30 'for many ja
"' "What," cried a man, " are "you 'Jfe- Mary
that he broke his heart about ?" . '
"Broke his fiddlestick,' said the fat woman.
"He was fifty when he died." '"
"Broke his heart 'for iii'e!' asked the poor
looking woman with the ' child. ' "Good God,
do I live to hear that ?"
"You had better go upfo the solicitor at
once," whispered I. "Come, I will show you
his door." - v ; ':
"1 made a way for her through the crowd of
persons, and Ave soon reached the chamber.
"Here is another of Mr. Jordan's relation's
Mr. Shaw," said I. '"I find that you have had
quite a levee.'? ' ! ;
' "I have, indeed, doctor. : You must come
at twelve o'clock next Monday, madam, when
the will of Mr. Jordan will be read by me' to
all around."' " '
''' "I thank you sir." She was about to leave
the chamber when I interposed.
"Pardon me, madam." I said. "But as I
was the only person with Mr. Jordan at the
time of his decease, I wish to ask you a ques
tion.' If I mistake not, your name was the
last that passed his lips. "Mary, my Mary,"
he said, "God knows that I loved you !" - ,
She sank into a chair arid burst into tears.
" You then," I added, "are the Mary whom
he loved. Ah, why did you not, if you can
weep for him now, reciprocate the passion ?"
"I did love him," she cried, "God knows
how I loVed him. But evil tongues came be
tween us, and we were separated, lie was
maligned to me, and I was wearied by entrea
ties and tears until I married another. ' She
who had turned me from him, and severed two
hearts that would and should have been all the
world to each other, confessed the sin upon
her death-bed." !
"Who was- it ?" said Mr. Shaw. , ' ' !
"llismother! From no other source could
I have believed the tales that I was told. But
I did not then know enough of the world "to
think that there were1 mothers who could .ma
lign their own children. We were separated
my husband died, leaving we that last little
one of many. We are very, very poor no
one will help us an acquaintance showed me
the advertisemdht, and urged me to come it
was a false hope..' But I . find that there are
strong arms and brawling tongues below, that
I cannot contend against." ...
is my duty to read 'the will on Monday, and
as a. 'relation', ii is your duty to attend atJ thp
same time. I tell you to have no expecta
tions;" -; ' : ' "' r' --'-'''' ' '' ; .
I saw Mr. Shawtry to .slisomc money into
her hand, and I jnv a crimson flush came over
her face as she said, "We.can still work," and
then fearing, that she had .been harsh to one
who wished to be kind, she shook his hand in
bpth of her and said "God bless you sir; I
thank yon from my heart." . . . t, :
- Bang, bitug !. came to the door of the cham
ber, a minute al ter Mary left, and upon.its be
ing opened a: man of about five or six and
thirty. inade his appearance,. . ' , . ;
."Something iulvanUge,ous!" ho gasped, for
he was out of bieath j f'what is it? give it
me, give it -me !; How .much ? ..Good God,-
don't let anybody elsehavc it:., I'm hisyoung
est brother giye" it inc." . .; ..; - .'; s I r
"If you will attend here at twelve .0". Moii
day, tha.willwill be read.'., ,
Bangrbang,;bang i : . .-; r - -;.,.:;:,
"I'm thoronghly besieged," said Mr. Shaw.
"Xow niadauie, who nre you?". . K. !
; "Something advantiigcous," screamed a
masculine looking woman, I'm a relative---what
is it-fconie 011 my dears. , Here's my .five,
dear daughters a-nd my baby come along,?'; :
.: "Be off with you," cried the younger broth-,
er. '.: . ; , -.: . .... ; .
-'"Did you ispeak tO'Tne,- you MTfctc'h," said
the lady, and she planted a blow in his face
that made: him" reel again. "Take that ; I
know you are a sneaking hoiind, you used:to
be called the chimpanzee in the : family, you
pdbr scorned up looking bundle of cat's meat."
' '-Several more arrivals now took place, and
poor MrShaw-was fairly bewildered J ; Sounds
of contention arose on tlic staircase;'!' Shriek
from family combatants came : upon our ears,
and finally,1! advised Mr. Shaw to place j pla
card on the outer door of hi. 0mce, on which
was wTitten, - 1
f Thc, vill of Mr. Jordan will be read here on
Monday next, at twelve. O'eloek precisely. f ' .
.The riot gradually .. subsided. .The even
came on, and all the relations of the deceased
had "gone. Mr-. Shaw And,:I supped .to
gether, and I promised to be with him punc
tuallV at 12 o'clock on Monday for I was cu
rious, as anybody could P hear the will read,
and at all events anticipating a bustling scene
-upon tho occasion. I r was not doomed to be
disappointed..;. i;n!k;, L . :,.0.f :
'
: . r '.: I:. .'; v ;:: :. :!.;. i .
It is a habit of .mine rather to; be, too .early
than to-be too late; audin the present instance
I found it a most useful one, for I really almost
doubt if I should have got;into the; chamber
of Mr- Shawat all if I had .been later,than I
waa. . . I iad fairly to push, Mrs Mary ; Graa
tham in despite a vigorous opposition, and a
man stopped my, own entrance, crying, ; ,
.- MWhoare you ? what relation are you.?" , i
,'lffIIis grandfather uncle",. said I, "and if
y.oudon'tmake way therej I'll pull, the , nose
offy4Our.ace.r,;; ri'v.., ; if..; -r;i;i: 1 -It
was well that Mr. Shaw occupied . very
spacious chambers, or otherwise he could not
.have, accommodated one; lialf of .the. persons
who came to the reading of the will, and never
in my life did I see such malignant looks pass
from one to another as shot, from the eyes of
the relations. . It was a most pitiful picture of
human nature. . ' '.., ,
"Ladies and gentlemen," said Mr. .Shaw,'
"ahem! ahem!" . :
. There M as a death like stillness. . , ;
. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am commissioned
to read to you the the what shall I call it ?
it is hardly a will of the late Mr. Jordan. No,
it certainly ought not to be called a will, pro
per!' speaking, is a testamentary- "
"Read, read, read ?" cried a dozen voices.
"Well, ladies and gentlemen I am glad to
see you are all in respectable mourning.",
"Except one," said the younger brother;
"there's, his Mary that he was so fond of.
Oh, dear me, she only comes for what she can
get.". . . :" . . . '. ,. "... ;
; Mrs. Grantham burst into tears. There was
a little shabby piece of black crape upon her
arm, and another upon the arm of her child. ;
- "I could not," she said, "I could do ho
more. God help me ; I had not the means."
"Read, read!" cried all the voices. .; . ;
"Ahem,' said Mr, Shaw, reading ; "I, John
James Jordan, being very poor, and, having in
vain called upon every relatioii.1 have in the
world for assistance, and-, found none, have to
state that my heart was .filled iVith .bitterness
and uncharitableness towards them. ; But still
I think the- are. not dead to all :feeling j and
this being my last will and testament, I desire
that my debts amounting 'to the sum of one
pound,; three shillings, and . eight .pence, be
paid forthwith out of my estate r-that my fu
neral be strictly private in Barnes' churchyard,
where I last parted with her whom I loved,but
who has gone abroad, I am told j and to; that
one of my relations who will erectatombstone,
I bequeath- "
;"Hark!. will you ?" cried one ; "be. quiet.
Goon yes, yes: Oh! you wreteh, where's
you feelings ? Go to the "
. "Really, ladies and gentlemen," said I,
"this is most indecorous." ...
: "I bequeath," continued Mr. Shaw, my dy
ing blessing and forgiveness." .' , -'
- Mr. Shaw then folded up the will and put. it
.-4jx liia tmeket, eisina . : ' . ' ;-
I wish you all good morning, ladies and
gentlemen. I sold the few clothes and other
matters he died possessed of, and paid for the
funeral, and his debts ; being myself minus
one shilling and four.pence,Iwhich I hope you
will some of you -pay.' '. .'.'.,',:;!
It is quite impossible by any words to fairly
depict to the reader' the appearance of Mr.
Jordan's relations at' this moment: If the fa
bled Gorgon's head : had 'suddenly appeared
arnd transformed them all to stone, they" could
not have looked more completly -paralyzed
and panic-stricken". ' '-- : ' ' ' ; :
"A tombstone.' ; '' j'-1 " - i .
A tonibstoue," said Mr.Shawy- "A small
one would not cost. much, r You could put on
it a suitable inscription. Here lics " . 1
"Lies here never mind," said the , brother.
"Xerer mind. I Oh, that's all, is it, 7 ., .
. You are. a humbug," vsaid ; the masculine
woman to Mr.. Shaw, vand so was old stupid
Jordan..'.' ,-r ...u-., ; , j;i ,,v . ; I
"Goto the deuce, all of you," shouted an!--
other. . 'A tombstone, indeed." .... i-., ;
..Mr. Shaw was wiping his spectacles. .,.JV
''Ladies and gentlemen,, . allow me. to: add
- : .: . '.- v ;
: "Oh,- stutiV stuff; . brother. .' rA- tombstone
indeed I shant stay another moment. . An Id
thief. I wish a tombstone had been down his
throat. Coilie on..' It!sado.." vAl 11.-;
"But, ladies and gentlemen V.. ' J. " ,
; They were quite deaf to the remonstrances
of Mr.Shaw and in a few moments the cham
bers wero quite clear j with,- the exception ; of
Mrs. ilary Grantham, who was sobbing bitterly.
She then rOseand looked. at me hesitatingly.
Then she looked at Mr. Shaw, and she seemed
to be struggling to say something! .She placed
her hand in her bosom, and drew forth- p- ring
tied to a black ribbon, and then- with; a -eon-vulsive
effort she spokor ' '.' ii) r,!-'." i j J
"f '"This this ring ris my. only valuable ! pos
session. .- Itwatf'glven to me thirty, years' ag;o
by him who is 'how omore,'myneousin,?J6hn,
who loved me. r' I have clung to itinpaiu -and
sorrow, in drfiiculty '- and- distress.' I' have
never5 parted with1 it. 1 'I ' seemed to be not
wholly separated front him while I had' it near
my heart. lj But how great distress forces me-i-
to--to part with' it.;' Will will neither of you,
gentlemen," fctry it of rac.' fI :shTink' from its
going into the hands of1 utter strangers.'' v i '
' IIumth said Mr.: Shaw' ' "Thre 'are a
couple of sovereigns for it.' 'Y'" .V!! i v
She took the money,' ,'apd; then,' after 6iie"
long, lingering l.ook and a'fervent kiss at the
ring, she laid it on the tabje anl tottered from'
the place. I. was about to follow hVrVjbut 'Mr.
Shaw held me back." " ' " ','','
; f'Hold, hold !''. he, said. :, ,-r l: irA ' r
,;' f You're a brute, sir ,'. said I. j Take ypor.
hands ofFme ;. I will buy the jing f you and'
give it back to hcr r It t breaks Ber . Jicart. to
........... .... c.. j ....... j t
part.with it, I see.'." ,., . .. : -r ,.:7;j j .
.. "i shan't pari with it." he. said;7.'y6li rV a
very hasty.mandoctor'J.,t,r,;,rr:0 ..fr.r...lff j r
.1.1 r was very angry, ..and bounced, out of, ihe
pffiee.., I looked eagerly foz rMcsl .Granlbam,,
but could not see her. I walked hurriedly
across the square and as chance- would have
it, I went in the same, direction she' did. . My
first impulse was to speak to her, and my sec
ond thought was to follow her, and see where
she went. She crossed Ilolborn, and traversed
some of the long -streets thatliead in the New
Road, where she arrived at last, finally paused
at a stone mason's yard. . .'
I could have shed tears at that moment, for
now I felt why she had parted with her cher
ished ring. She stayed about a quarter of an
hour at the stone mason's, and then she came
out and walked slowly away. I did not fol
low her further, but went into the mason's
yard, and said to him ' ;
"Did that lady give you an order ?"
' "Why, yes, sir, .such" as it was.- She has
got me to do a stone for two pounds, and she's
paid me.' I'ni to meet her at the church yard at
Barnes', to-morrow morning at ten o'clock,
with it, and put ft up. It's only to have on it
the name of John James Jordan, and under
that, 'God bless him.' "
I walked away with a sort of mist about my
eyes and it was an hour before I recovered my
composure. "I will meet her" thought I "at
the grave of her last love, and I will be a friend
to her if she hasp never another iri the world.
She shall have her ring again if I force it from
thelawer. ' She shall have it. : I'll go and get
it now at once." ' -'
I suppose I looked in a very tolerable pas
sion when I got to Mr. " Shaw's chambers, for
he got behind a table when he saw me, and
said ' ' " :- -
: "Come; comej no violence." ' ;
"Hark you, sir," said I; "you have got the
ring. Theres your money. Give it to me
directly, sir. - Mr3. Grantham, poor thing, is
going to-morrow morning at nine o'ciock, to
place a stone at the grave of Mr. Jordan, and I
intend to be there, and give her her ring."
"Oh, very well. Bother the ring I don't
want it. It ain't worth half the money I gave'
for it. There it is; don't bother me."
I took up the ring, and then put down two
sovereigns, and casting upon him a withering
look, which, to tell the truth he did. not'seem
much to care about, I left the chambers. .
A soft, damp, -white miss covered all objects
and made the air uncommonly raw and chilly,
thj fullowins morning, just aa the clock
of the, church at Barnes chimed the three
quarters past eight, I entered the churchyard.
The first thing I did was to fall '.over some
body's grave, for I was looking for.Mrs. Grant
ham instead of niinding. where I was walking ;
and then a voice said '"'.'" " '"" !
' "There you go again,' as violent as usual,
doctor," and in the dim mist I saw.Mr. Shaw,
the solicitor, to my great surprise. ', . '
I was going to say something, but at . that
moment I was nearly knocked down again ,by
some body brushing past me. .A gleam of
sunshine came Out, and the mist began toclear
away, when a most singular sce'ne . presented
itself. .' A few yards Off was the' grave' ,pf Mr.
Jordan, and kneeling by it was Mary, his first
love with herchild by her side. Mr. Shaw stood.
to my left, and at his feet there knelt a re
spectable looking young man I-recollected as
Mr; Shawns clerk': 'tl ''J ' ' " ' 1 "" "-:';'''.;
"Good God! Richards," said Mr. Shaw ;
"is thatybu ? rWliat is the' matter ? ' : .
! ' "Oh, sir," said Richards', "I have come ;to
ask your forgiveness. "The spirit of ' my poor
old father stood by my bedside night.' ' Oh,
God ! , oh, God ! it was" dreadful; and. I -knew,
what it was for,. Oh'j sir, forgive me.'. ij, peep
ed into the will, . sir, ; while- you went out to
dinner Mr. Jordan's ' will-r-and and ; I vent
around to all reiai6ns,.and, toid the secret for.
two pounds apiece, and ''.
Mr. Shaw gave a jump tliat astonished me..
'.: 'Doctor, doctor, ",he shouted,' "for .God's
sake run down to London road and bring the
man with the gravestone.. ; Oh, good gracious.
Oh, curse you1 Richardsi - Ha, " h v 'ha,' Oh,
here he Is. ' Oh, bles yon, for 'a prudent .'stone
mason; you shalL gowir well ipaiJ for this
jobj Hip, hip; nip, hurrah.": r; . .
I tliought to be- sure Mr... Shaw must : have
gone mad. r ;There was a man looking over the
railing of the;cliurehyard with a' spade 'on his
shoulder, add to hint Mr. Shaw said : i, j .
:l ."Five guineas for that spade 1 " ; ' ,-
i-.The man thought he wasltnada'nd tried to
TVJi away'; but he dropped the. spade, and in
another moment Mr. Shaw's coat was off and
he was digging' away like fury.'- t '.;'
- : "Where's the stone V- he ' criedi -"bring the
'storie.' That's rfghtv' Poke !it' in--prop it
npi1 That's the thing all's right.' Here we
arc '-Anothef J'fcnoc Airs' right-bail's
right." r'-' f ''' ; -
"! ffLor," said the tone inasouas he lifted up
his hand; "look there.'? . . . ' '. ' .
. I looked in the direction he indicated, and
tbere, ,to .myKastoni'shment,-I saw "arriving
carts, coaches, cabs, r and . wheel-barrowsj and
each contained a tombstone. . A regular fight
ensued at .the. entrance of the churchyard,
and enga-c.d jn tho fight I recognized the rela
tions of Mr. Jordan. Heavens how they ctnT-
- - - ' -. ..ii... . . - j. .
,ed.eaQUotherr, vf er.i; . n .,. , f . '
Hokl,' cried, Mr, Shawj you'are all -too
late although .you.had.iHfomation you fjtmght
not to have had.. .. There is already -a .stone
.ps.Mr. Jordanfs.grayeand placed, Ttop, .by
who knew not What you all c knew, Listen to
e c.onclpsip)j of tberw-iU,: 'pfLSs iSit one
of mv relations who will erect a tombstone to
my memory, I. bequeath my blessing and for
giveness,' and eighty thousand pounds in bank
stock." "Madam" to Mrs. Grantham "I
congratulate you." ' " - .- - .' .
sAnd there's your ring," said I; "Mr. Shaw
let us shake hands. I understand, you now."
"Ha, ha!" said "Mr. Shaw. "Ladies and
gentlemen, you had better 11 of you keep the
tombstone for yourselves. You can get - the
name, altered, for if you don't I'm very much
afraid you will not find them 'ftojiETmsc ad-
VAXTAOF.OCS.' " - . - .. -
. ' Sleep and Death. - -,T.
The Angles of Sleep and Death, locked arm
in arm, wandered over the earth. It was even
ing. They laid themselves down upon a lofty
hill that overlooked the habitations of , men.
A mournful stillness reigned around, broken
only by the evening bells, whose sound came
faintly from the distant hamlet.
Silent and speechless as i& their wont,, these
beneficent guardian angels of mankind, lay in
close embrace, .till night's dark mantle fell
around them. Then the Angel of Sleep rose
from his mossy ' couch, and scattered with
noiseless hand the invisible seed of Slumber.
The evening wind carried them to the' silent
dwellings of the weary "husbandman. 'Soon
sweet sleep enfolded in its gentle embrace the
inmates of the rural cottage from the grey
haired sire, whose tottering steps a stafF sup
ports, to the infant in its cra'dle. The sick
forgot his pains the mourner his sorrows, the
poor his cares. ,'--,-
All eyes were closed. ' His task being finish
ed, this benevolent Angel again lay down by
his sterner brother's side.
'"When morning breaks," cried' he, with
happy innocence, "all the world will bless me
as their'friend and benefactor. Oh, what joy,
thus to do good in secret' and unseen. How
happy are we, invisible, messengers of the
good spirit ! How beautiful is our quiet of
fice !" : :
Thus spake the. Augel of Slumber. .1
The Angel of Death gazed upon him in si
lent sadness; while tears, such as immortals
weep, stood in his large dark eyes. .
"Ah !, said he, "would .that I, like you,
could rejoice hi cheerful thanks ; but the world
calls me its foe and joy-destroyer.', : . '.
"Ob! my brother,.' answered the Angel of
Slumber ;."wiH .not every , good man, upon
awakening, recognize in thee his friend, and
gratefully bless thee ? Are we not brothers
and children orone.lathet ?" .: ; f. ' -
So he .spake;.' '. The tearful eyes of the Angel
of-Death shone 'with a gleam of jdeasure,
while he: pressod his gentler brother more ten
derly to. Lis heart.- Home Journal. ,0
. Passi.vc Away. We can read these solemn
words upon our . very nature. . ; The .ruthless
hand of time is constantly heaping upon our
heads the weight of-years that, like an incu-bus-will
continaetto press: us; down, until at
last our feeble frames will totter and siii into
the grave. It is, indeed, but a "step between
the. cradle anil the grave" Scarcely have we
passed from the nixjther where we were nursed
and protected, .until we again ' must lean upon
the arms of a dutiful child, , and trust to his
kindness to support our feeble limbs. . How
soon" do we find our C5"es growing old and the
world gradually receding, as it were, into a
mist! Our cheeks become " furrowed our
limbs become-.weak and pafeied; our heads are
silvered as if blossoming for the grave. ;i Our
feeble frames arc racked with pain, and'"na
ture's sweet restorer'? .come not to the eyes,
as if kindly warning us to watch 5 forwe know
not what hour in UkS night the messenger may
summon Us hence; ' Like the pearly dew-drop
before tho sun's ray like the rose of. summer
before the autumn blast like fhe moon beam
on the dark blue jen; "'we are passing away."
Cosvebsatiox. Any body earf talk vho: has
the usual organs of speech hut to converse is
a very different thing, and' to converse well a
very high' and rare' accomplishment. - Conver
sation, aa one may see by the etymology,-of
the word-supposes' at least two parts to' the
discourse, and requires a listener as - well as a
talker.' ! Johnson and Parr have: argued ; Col
eridge preached ; Madame de : Staet' disputed ;
Curran sparkled with wit and fancyj'Burke con
versed like a gentleman, and was at once "bril
liant and'profouhd a good talker a good lis
tcner and altogether a model conversationalist.
Shakspeare - says t "Conversation . 6hould ' be
pleasant without scurrility, witty without af.
fectation,learned without pedantry ,novol with
out falsehood."- Rochofoncault sayasli"The
reason so jew. persons are agreeableT in
conversation Is, that every one thinks more of
'what he has to say, than of answering what is
said to him." ; Bhrns must have been a thann
ing convefsaiionalisti ' The Duchess' of Gor
don said of his : conversation, that "it fairly
lifted her off herfeet"-a' powerful kind of dis
course, we should say,' and scarcely proper to
a Duchess. Boston Post. - 1 ' - - ; '-'
'.A Mosster . HoitsE.-r-A . horse is ;now exhib
ited in England which is u-y-e hands high
and weighs (mcvtyJiv hn.npred weighty . Ho is
4 monster ' whole team, as the saying is, all
t alone by himself, .ir.w.-y.'. UziLij c) :a
. "CTeiifrectiohs as 'naturally, contrast in
the evening of fife as dowers at 'the departur
of the sun. . - ' - .
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