Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1854-05-24
ed; and passing puff of wind could raise
it to a blaze

ed; and passing puff of wind could raise
it to blaze.
One day, when the store was crowded
with purchasers, Henry, in the hurry of the
moment, mistook the measurement of
piece Of cloth. Some time after, the buyer
returned, and laying the cloth on the coun-
ter, said in an angry tone, This cloth has
been spoiled by the tailor, who commenced
cutting it before he found out it was scant
pattern. paid for full pattern and ex-
pect you to take this back and furnish one.
do not mean to be cheated out ofthe price
of coat.
Henry's brow contracted, and his lip
qulvered with rage at this insinuation.-I
Sir, said he, if | have made mistake,
| will rectify it; but do you mean to charge
me with Intentionally cheating you?
Your mistake, replied the man sneering-
", was ir your own favor, which certainly
looks very suspicious
Quick as lightning Henry snatched the
shears from the counter and hurled them at
the insulter's head. The point pierced his
temple He fell and in five minutes was
corpse
The young man was taken, almost sense
less with horror, before magistrate, and
within an hour, was lying in agony of soul
upon the hard floor of prison. In few
weeks after, he was indicted for manslaugh-
ter, tried, convicted and sentenced to seven
years imprisonment.
The night previous to his removal to the
State penitentiary his heart-crusbed parents
passed with him in the Jail. With unutter-
able anguish they looked upon the face of
their own promising boy. Haggard despair
and gnawing remorse had drawn their shades
over that still youthful countenance, and
traced there the burrows Of incipient old age
Two of their loved children they had already
seen wrapped in winding sheets, and laid in
cold graves. But they felt no such agony
of soul as now. They wept then, and found
relief in tears. Now their woe was too deep
for tears. They walled and groaned. They
could have followed their son to the grave,
but the disgrace and horror of this living
entombment, how could it be borne Miser-
able parents and wretched son ! They had
no God to soothe, no Divine Comforter to
sustain them. But there were additional
drops of wormwood to be wrung into their
intolerably bitter cup.
Father, said the wretched Henry, in
this gloomy prison, have been recalling
the scenes of my youth, while tracing the
history and growth of the hellish passions
, which have cmbittered my whole life, and
now doomed me to living grave. Can you
remember, father, when in the days of my
childhood you reproached me with coward
ice, and told me if would be manly l must
learn to give blow for blow? Can you re-
member how you encouraged and applaud
cd me when l followed your instructions
Then, father, and at other times, by such
lessons you planted scorpions in my breast,
and during all my boyhood they were nurs-
ed. They have grown with my growth, and
now they sting US ALL
Earlier scenes, and among them those of
his third birthday, arose to the memory of
the mourning mother. He had forgotten
them-they were beyond the date of his re-
membrance, but their influence had been
, powerful in moulding his character and
J shaping his life.
Within two years Henry died in prison
: Often did the repen3ant parents bitterly
: wall, when those first lessons were remem
! bered, and if they neverrepeated the words
> of the wretched poet, they often felt the
: truth of the sentiment,
The thorns which have reaped, are of tn Q tree
, planted; they have torn me and bleed;
e l should have known what fruit would spring from
d such a seed"
Mothers Magazine.