The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1846-09-12

81 have tried 10 get work for two
long weeks, and am now without a
crust of breadr And John gaze d
steadily in Joneson's face.
swell then, where's your credit?
You don't mean to say that an INDUS
trious mechanic like you are, or ought
to be, can't obtain credit in this enter
prizing city of Philadelphia"
"There is no Imprisonment for debt"
said John with sickly smile. "No poor
man gets 'trust' nowadays"
swell my poor fellow am sorry for
you, sorry that our Bank failed to meet
Its liabilities, sorry that you invested
your little money in it, very sorry! But
dye see! have an engagement, and
must CO."
The corpulent Bank President rose
from his seat, inserted his watch in its
fob, put on his great coat, and moved
toward the door. g..
Davis stood as if rooted to that gor-
gcous carpet. He made an effort TO
speak but his tongue produced but a
hollow sound. Then his lip trembled,
and his quivering fingers were pressed
nervously against his breast.
"Come my fellow, pity your case,
but | can't help it. There is meeting
Of the Patent-Gospel Association to-
night, and must go. You see my tel-
low, the Pope of Rome must be put
down, and | must so an help do it,
Davis advanced toward the corpulen.
Bank President.
"Look here Mr.. Joneson," he said in
that husky whisper, which speaks from
the thin lips of want. "My hands are
hardened to bone by work. Look at
these fingers. Dye see how cramped
and crooked they are! Well, Mr.. Jone-
son, for six long years shaved for that
six hundred dollars. And why? Be.
cause wanted to give my wife a home
in our old age, because | wished to give
some schooin' to my child. This mon
ey Mr.. Joneson, placed in your hands
last summer. You said you'd invest il
in stock, and now, nan, Sir, my wife
has been dead month, my child lies
on her dyin' bed without bread to eat
or a drop Of medicineto- still single
death pam. An come to you, and
ask for my money, an you tell me that
THE BANK Is BROKE! Now Mr..
Joneson, what | want to ask you is
this"
His voice trembled, and he raised his
hands to his eyes for a single instant.
"Will you lend me some money 10
buy some wood and some bread?"
"Why Davis, really you are too hard
FOR me,' said the round-laced Joneson,
moving step nearer the Threshold
There was a superciIious curl about his
fat lip, and sleepy contempt about bis
eaden eyes.
"Will you," cried Davis, his voce ris.
ing in whispered shrek, "Will you
lend me ONE dollar!" ....
"Davis, Davis, you're too hard for
me-" said the Bank President, jingling
the silver in his pocket with his gouty
hands. "The fac; is, were | to listen
to all such appeals to my feelings,
would be beggar tomorrow"
He strobe quickly over the threshold
as he spoke.
"John," he cried to the servant who
was passing through the hall, "lf any.
body calls for me, you can say that !
have gone to the special meeting Of the
American Patent-Gospel Association.
And look ye John, tell James to have
the coach ready by twelve tonight;
one Of the Directors gives party, and
| must be there; and when this person
goes out, you can put do wn the dead
latch"
Having thus spoken, the Bank Pres.
ident walked quietly to the front dool
of the mansion, and in a moment was
passing along the crowded street,
John Davis stood IN the centre of thai
gorgeous parIor, silent and motionless
as figure carved out Of solid rock.
"Come Mister, as the gentleman's
gone, I'spose you may as well tortlen
said harsh voice. John Davis looked
up, and beheld a fat-faced servant in
lively, motloning him toward the front
door.
Without picking his hat from the car.
pet, J ohm walked slowly from the house.
Meanwhile Job Joneson, Esq. pas
sing with a dignifed waGdIe through
the crowded street, reached the corner
of Sixth and Chestnut streets, where
the outline of the State House arose
into the clear, cold, star-lit sky.
A hand was laid gently on his shoul'
der. Joneson turning quicly round,
beheld man Of some thirty years.
whose slovenly dress and red nose be-
trayed his profession. He was a tip
staff Of one of the Courts of Justice.
.Rep nardon. Sir. vour name Jone-