Litchfield enquirer. [volume] (Litchfield, Conn.) 1829-current, 1841-08-19

O"Ss "Hu OI young Ddker DeIDg Wnuef The
garden fence on the preceding night
The boys mother was IA widow, and they
both had t" live in the very narrOwest linn
It's. His father had died when he was six
years old, and little Tim was lett sickly
and emacia,ed infant whom ITO one expect
ed to live many months. To the surprise
OF all, however, the poor child kept alive,
aud seemed To recover his health, as he
certainly did his size and good looks
This was owing to the kind Offices Of an
eminent physician who had a country sea.
in the neighborhood, and who had been
interested in the widows little family
Tim, the physician said, might possibly
outg'ow his disease but everything was
uncertain. 1t was mysterious and baf-
fling malady; and it would not be wonder.
tul il he should in some moment of appa-
rent health be- suddenly taken away
The poor widow was at first in con1nu-
al state of uneasimess; but several years
had now passed, and none of the impcnd-
ing evils had fallen upon the boys head
His mother seemed 10 feel confident that
he would live, and be help and honor to
her old age; and the two struggled ON to-
gether, mutually happy in each other. and
enduring much Of poverty aud discomfort
without repining, each for the others sake.
Tins pleasant disposition made him
many friends in the village, and among the
rest young farmer named Jones, who, with
his older brother, worked large farm in
the neig hborhood on shares. Jones very
frequently made Tim a present Of bag
OF potatoes or corn, or some garden veget-
abies, which he took from his own stock;
but as his partner was parsimomious,
high-tempered man, and had often said
that Tim was an idle fellow, and ought not
TO he helped because he didn't work.
Jones generally made his gifts in such
manner that no one knew anything about
them, except himself and the grateful OBJ
jec,s Of his kindness. 1t might be, too,
that the widow was lOatl to have it UNDER
stood by the neighbors that she received
food from any one for there is often an
excusable pride in people Of her condition
which makes them shrink from being con-
sidered as objects of Charity as they
would from the severest pains. On the
night in question, Tim had been told tina,
Jones would send them bag Of potatoes,
waiting for him was fixed ut Mr.. Nichols
garden fence. 1t was this bag that Tim
lad been seen staggering under, and which
caused the unlucky boy to be accused aud
convicted by his teacher as thief. That
teacher was one little fitted for his impor-
.ant aud responsible office. Hasty to de-
eide, and inhexibly severe, he was the ter
| rOr of the little world he ruled so despoti-
cally. Punishment he seemed 10 delight
in. Knowing little of those sweet foun-
tains which in childrcn's breasts ever open
quickly at the call Of gontleness and kind
words, he was feared by all for his stern
ness, and loved by none. would that he
were an instance in his profession.
| The hour Of grace had drawn to its
close, and the time approached at which il
was usual for Lugars to give his school a
joyfully -received disn,ission. Now and
then one of the scholars would direct "a
fur,ive glance at Tim, sometimes in pity,
sometimes in indifference or inquiry
They knew that he would have no mercy
shown him, and though most of them loved
him, whipping was too common there to
exact much sympathy. Every inquiring
glance, however, remained Unsatis6ed, for
at the end of tho hour, Tin remained with
his face completely hidden, and his head
bowed in his arms, precisely as he had
leaned himself when lie first went to his
seat. Lugare looked at the boy OCCASION
ally with scowl, which seemed to bsde
vengeance for his suIIenness. At length
the last class had been heard, and the last
lesson reci,ed. and Lugare seated himself
behind his desk on the platform, with his
longest and stoutes, rattan before him.
"Now, Barker" he said, "we'll set
tie that little business Of yours. JOS, step
up here"
Tim did not move. The school-roonl
was as still as The grave. Not a sound was
to be heard, except occasionally d long
drawn breath.
"Mind me, sir, or il will be the worse
for you. Step up here, and take off your
jacket"
The boy did not stir any moro than il
he had been Of wood. Lugare shook
with passion. lie sat still minute, as il
considering the best way to wrsak his
vengeance. That minute, passed in DEATH
like silence, was Il fearful one TO some OF
The children, for their faces whiiened with
fright. 1t seemed, as it slowly dropped
away, like the minute which precedes the
climax Of an exquisi,eIy -periormed TRACE
dy, when some mighty master of che his
trionic art is ireading the stage, and you
and the multitude around yon are waiting
with stretched nerves and suspended
breath, in expectation Of the terrible eatas-