The Literary echo, and Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1851-1854, 1852-04-29
Original 9ketfbes.
[For the Literary Echo
SKETCHES OF
GRIPEVILLE AND ITS DENlZENS
N o. III.
BY L'INCoGNITA.

Gripe's fortieth year found him a rich
man. He had houses and lands, bank
stock and notes of hand. True, he had
but one factory, and one village, but no
factory of its size, throughout the land,
yielded more profits than his, and no
other village was more neatly built, or
prettily situated. He had very large
shares in very large bank that was
thought to be unbreakable, and he had
also beautiful country residence, which,
if not quite equal to his former city
palace, abounded in luxuries and super
fuities of wealth. He was moreover
blessed with two goodly daughters, and
noble son, but we will say more OF
these by and by.
Dab Gripe was rich, but was he there
fore happy No, far from it. He had
laid up all his treasures on earth, and
all his hopes, and aspirations after felici-
ty were "of the earth, earthly" )" and
the nearer he approached that goal of
prosperity for which he had once set out,
and the more riches he accumulated, so
much the farther did that mocking phan-
tom, happiness, flee his grasp, and so
much the more did his boarded treasures
yield him only harrassing cares and
troubles that rankle increasingly in his
bosom, and embitters every moment OF
his existence. He had stores of wealth,
but no widows comfortless home, or
orphans pale sad face was made brighter
and more cheerful with portion of his
treasures. His table was loaded with
luxuries, but hungry turned away unfed
from his door. Lavishly were Heavens
choicest gifts bestowed upon their un-
grateful receiver, but he knew not how
to appreciate their worth, or appropriate
them to the purposes for which they
were given, of making his fellow
creatures better and happier.
Dab Gripe had a neighbor; nay, two
OF them; that were perfect thorns in
the fesa" to him. One of them was his
ma;denly competitor in the grinding line,
Miss Charity Hcldfast /; the other was
Ely Goodwell, Mr.. Goodwell was
but stop, 1 must attend to the ladies
first; so allow me, kind reader, to make
you acquainted with Miss Charity Hold
fast. She was a very mild looking lady,
although the numberless wrinkles on her
withered face, and the silvery, yet thick
hair that was parted smoothly over her
forehead, and put back soberly beneath
her neat white muslin cap, told that she
had emerged from her teens long ago.
She was strict Methodist and always
dressed with most scrupulous plainness.
She limped little and always leaned on
cane when she walked, but whatever
defect there might have been in her
limb, 1 can assure you that there was
none in her tongue, for she could keep
| it running continually from morning till
night eye, and from night till morning,
| if there had been any necessity for it,
and never exhibit any symptoms of wear
mess. Her character was in perfect
accordance with her name. But how
can that be :" do you ask. "What I!
could she be at the same time close
listed and open handed :" Yes, she was
even so. When subscription for char
table purposes was presented to her, she
was sure to give more than any one else
on the list, if it was destined to 60 into
the Golfers of her own denomination.
But if some poor person in the neigh
borhood wished to borrow triAe of her,
they were very likely to be met with the
reply, have done my part Of lending,
and / guess that you had better try