Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1850-08-14
A True story Of Human Mature.

There once lived IN small town III
Massachusetts an old Indian woman.
Somehow or other the old woman had
accumulated quite desirable little pro-
perty. Yet she was an Indian, and was
treated with cool contempt by her neigh
bors. She had not set in the social cir
Gle, received no attention from those
around her, occupied a back pew in the
church, and down towards the grave she
travelled, without friend or comforter.
Old Nance had but one relative living
that she know of, and he wild, grace
less son. He was the terror of the vii
lage, and spent his time in any thing but.
a respectable way. At last the vagabond
so worried the forbearance of his old
mother, that in hasty moment she re-
solved to disinherit him and leave her mon.
ey to the church.
Accordingly she started for the house
of one of the dcacons, and made clean
breast of her troubles, and acquainted
him with her determination. The deacon
grew from a cool to very amiable mood
as she proceeded, and at least became
proflse in his expressions Of gratitude.
T The will, through the agency of the
deacon, was drawn but the old woman,
feeling a little compunction had a clause
inserted which should make it void, pro-
iyided the son should totally reform his
habits. Secrecy was .enjoined upon the
deacon, who of course told nobody but
his wife; who ofcourse said nothing about
it save to one or two friends, who of
course spread it all over the village in the
space Of one day.
But the change wroughtin the situation
Of old Nance was miraculous. "Such a
good old woman" The nice bits from
the best tables began to journey under
neat napkins to her humble abode. On
rainy Sabbath a7carriago took her up
at her door, and carried her to church,
where she was kindly favored with afront
pew near the speaker, and near the stove.
Her praise was in every body's mouth,
and her tottering form commanded res
pect every where. But she thrived remark
ably under this treatment, and lived, and
lived. In the mean. time the son was
looked upon with moro than usual dis
trust, and the poor widow was deeply
commisserated on his disgraceful course.
Years passed away, and the kind at
tentions Of friends were still continued
TO the widow, when, at last, old Nance
slept the sleep that knows no waking. A
large funeral, ,soneaof the largest the little
village had ever seen, attended her to the
grave in the quiet churchsyard. There
were tears shed aboye1her beir, and ben
isons breathed upon her.memory.
The funeral was past. The deacon,
the squire and number ofthe village no.
tables, were gatheredia her dwelling, and
iitnone corner Of aIle-rooh sat the sad
and facdturil son. t.
ss Squire, sd ttlhsss
there, q; viii 2 ssssss,' ssssssss
sY'es, there is will
gga VIII you have thek:
The will was read
widows property
church. Many an
the son, but saw
features.
When the reading
arose, and drawing a l,;s.. y, paper from
his pocket, inquired the date of" that ar
will"
The date was stated, and handing the
Squire his paper, the portionless asked
him to read it. ..,.s
Alas! it was will one day younger
than the other. The fond mother in her
weakness had told the son what she had
done, and he managed to have the will
drawn twenty-four hours after the preri-
oas one, in which he was the sole legatee.
The assembled wisdom and disiuterest-
edne5s of the village went home thinking,
and the son had the pleasant satisfaction
of knowing that his mothers last days
were her best days. ysa
Reader, this is not affection. It is but
an instance of the weakness in our COM
mon natures, which, in similar develop
ments, comes before US with humiliating
frequency, alike in the highest and lowest
walks of life.
Yankee Roguery.