The northern galaxy. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1844-1848, 1844-06-26
MISCELLANEOUS.
The AWe&f0mo
A SKETCH FROM REAL LIFE
BY JAMES REFS

TWAS n tempestuous night, the wind whis-
fled fearfnlly, and hail stones whose size
threatened TO demolish the windows, ratified
against them with pertinacity as If to test
their strengthen the parlor of fine old
fashioned house, beside rather comfortless
fire on such a night, were seated the family
of Mr.. Sunderland, consisting of himself,
wife, daughter, and faithful mad servant
a heavy gloom more OlsoTow than oil anger,
rested on each brow, not even excepting
that of the maid servant alluded to, from
whose eager chances ever and anon cast to-
ward the family group, the close observer
would have noted the deep interest she took
in the cause of their grief.
The picture was melancholy one, for VIZ
tue in distress has 10 light shade TO relieve II;
all around and about it is dark and sombre.
The sensitive artist would have thrown aside
his pencil if the subject had been presented TO
his view as we have described it, and his
heart would have received an impression
which he could not have transferred to can
yass.
Tomorrow observed Mr.. Sunderland,
SIS the anniversary of the melancholy death of
our dear Henry-to morrow will be ten years
since the vessel in which he sailed was lost,
and all on board perished-all, all
Alas exclaimed his wife, las the tears cours-
ed their way down her cheeks, tomorrow
will be melancholy day.
Indeed it will, for tomorrow this house
which belonged to my father-the furniture
which time has made, as it were part OF our
selves associated with many pleasing event
IN our lives, is to be sold-torn from us by
the unrelenting hands Of creditors; but, thank
Providence, misfortune. not crime has reduced
us to this stage of poverty
VIII they sell everything, Pa-can we Sc
cure nothing , asked the daughter.
No my child unless with what little money
friend has generously loaned me, | can Sc
cure few articles. Ellen my dear, take your
pencil and put them down first the side
hoard, two beds, chairs and kitchen things.
The side-b board it is rue, viii he superfluous
piece of furniture, but it belonged to my
mother, and cannot, will not part with it
But my piano, Pal-fnust it go?
The wife sighed, the father cast his eyes
toward the Pickering fire, and the daughter
was silent. The fate of the piano was deci-
ded upon. A melancholy pause in the con-
Yersation plainly told how severe was the al
ternative-for the law never studies the feel
ihgs of its victims when exacting the penalty
ofa bond.
Go, Mary said Mr.. Sunderland, addressing
the servant 20 and request the Sheriff's Off
Ger, who is watching the property, TO walk
into the paror: he is not doing his duty-no
doubt it is painful to him, as it is distressing
to u.s. Let him have a seat at our fire, and a
cup of tea for it is severe night
III is indeed fearful night. observed Mrs.
Sunderland, and we have behaved rude TO
this man.
Mother, / made fire in the room where
he is, but-
Speak out child-it was the last stick
Father it was-'
Mary returned with the officer, a polite
gentlemanly man for such should be the
character of men no have to perform part
of the drama oflife, not unlike that OF the IN
quisitors of old whose province II was TO Tor
ture bv the rack, with this difference, howev-
er; theirs was physician torture-ours a
mental one. administered with all the nice
ty and precision of illegal justice!" The Off
Ger politely accepted the invitaiion-and en-
deavorcd to cheer his victims, by enumerating
many cases of similar kind, equally poign-
ant and distressing. Thus the evening pass
ed heavily and cheerlessly away.
On the morning of the contemplated sale,
there was to be seen a crowG of people flock
ing to the house of Mr.. Sunderland. Some
out of sheer, heartless curiosity, friends of
the family who came with mockery on their
lips-and empty purses. Others with an in
tent TO purchase, butnO one among the crowd
showed the least desire to aid, or sympathise
with the distress of the family. This is the
world; we laugh at the misfortunes of our
fellow creatures. and even mock theirdlstress-
es, by witnessing in silence their sufferings.
The auctoneer was now making his arrange
ments, by hourishing his hammer, rolling his
eyes and using his tongue. The motley crowd
gathered around him. The house was put
up first, it was accurately described-free
from all membranes, and subject TO but
very small ground rent. 1t was started at
five thousand dollars. There were several
bidders all of whom seemed anxious to pur-
chase it. Seven thousand five hundred dol
lars was at last bid, upon which the auction
eer dwet for moment Mr.. Sunderland
compressed his lips together, and muttered
to himself, it cost my father fifteen thousand
dollars Seven thousand five hundred dol
lars. Going-goins-o
tirnes-for the last time going EIGHT thou
sand thank you sir-going at eight thou
sand-once-eight thousand twice-eight
thousand three times-going-go ne-what
nameE Clifford was the response, and all
eyes rested on tall, noble looking man, who
had renamed silent during the rapid bidding
of the speculators-and who as the whisper
went round was total stranger.
1T is gone whispered Mr. Sunderland 10
his wife as be pressed her hand in silent
grief we have no home now'
Now, gentlemen cried the auctioneer, I'VE
will sell this side board, in regard to which
ar requested by the creditor to say that it is
an old family piece, and it is the wish of the
owner to retain tiff possible. merely men
ton this as it is known to you under what pc
culiar circumstances the things are sold.'
This had the desired effect-no one SEEM
ed willing to bid against the unfortunate man,
who started it at ten dollars. Twenty was
bid by Mr.. Clifford; twenty-five from Mr..
Sunderland; fifty from Mr.. Clifford silenced
the anxious parents. and the family piece of
furniture was knocked down to the new own
er of the house. A gentleman that stood by
remarked that the act was cold, heartless
one; Was itl sarcastically asked Mr.. elf
lord, ), 'then' sir, why did you not buy it for