Eaton Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1843-1856, 1855-04-19

but when they parted Uncle Joe was seen 10
slip couple Of silver dollars into the boys
hand and was heard to tell him TO beware of
bad company, to trust in God and, to remem-
Der his old mother. To all, or any part OF
which, John was too much affected to make
any reply. In short lime he was again on
his way TO the busting cities on The seaboard,
in some one Of which he hoped to earn the
money that should preserve 10 his mother her
home.
Now, John Smith, the seniour, bestir your
self! Your only boy, one Of the best boys that
ever was on a New England hillside, has left
you 10 harvest your own grain and get ready
for winter. Keep away from the grog-shop, !
and you will do well enough. Go there, and |
everything besides will be neglected!
AT the time speak of, do not know as
John Smith would have needed the caution of
an angel. He was going down hill, and when
this is the fact with any one, il is seldom that
good advice avas anything. When he gets
down there, and sees the folly Of it, perhaps
he will turn back-not now. Smith went
down.
| He kept away from Scribner's long enough
to get into his house and barn, the vegetables
and grain his son had taken so much pains to
cultivate, but the next year his fences were
left unrepaired, and his ground unplunted.--
Weeds sprung up where corn had grown lux
utiantly, and everything about the once Thrift
ty farm, looked like ruin. His wife fenced
and planted small garden patch, but beyond
this, little was done.
And so things went on for three long years
until John Smith had become poor miSer-
| able inebrate, with scarcely a coat on his
back, or a pair Of shoes 10 his feet. A burn
ing thirst was in him, calling for alcohol. A
| In
pair seemed written in his face, and on his
soul.
One day farmer Churchill met him-Smith
was too far gone--too low down-to tn ink Of
further enmily;and when the good farmer offer
ed his hand, Smith shook it heartily. He felt
thai Uncle Joe vas really good man, an
that there had been no actual cause for his
hostility 10 one so kind and generous.
"And now" said Uncle Joe, al want you
to come TO my house this evening. An old
, friend, clergyman, will be there, and will
be very glad TO see you"
Smith was taken by storm. Before he could
think what lie was about, he had promise 10
go. And yet, now could he 60, all rags and
alters as he was. He went home anL told
his wife what he had done, and for the first
time in three years, asked her advice.
"Where there's will there's a way" said
the good woman, and she set alb ut mending
his torn garments.
BY The time the sun was gone he was ia
tolerable trim, and he set out for farmer
Churchil's, threshold he hadn t crossed for
. twelves years. His wife went with him.
I They were treated with. the utmost kindness,
and John was delighted with the clergyman
n He had expected 10 find a naughty, SeIf.righ-
teouS upbrading aristucIat. Instead Of that,
| ba maj Of a N nf n
ness Of heart. John Smith himself can hardly
/ tell how it came about, but before leaving far.
mer ChurchilPs, he promi ed that clergyman
3 he would never drink any more.
, And he never did-never, at least, TO my
knowledge. He set about mending his fen
ces, repairing his house, and getting food and
clothing for himself and wife; and when spring
came, he sowed and planted, as he had done
: years before. Everything went well with him
and but for that mortgage hanging over his
+ head, would have been happy.
A Where was his son A few months ftel
n his departure from home, drover, who arri
n we'd back from Boston, and who knew him
u. nthst city, said that he was engaged in hoist
8 | ing cotton into loft. year aflerward, an
i other acquaintance saw him in q wholesale
!. store, though in what capacity he could no
i say. And then in year alterward, some
- body had seen him as head clerk in larg,
!, wholesale establishment. This was all peo
n pie in his native town knew Of him. Wheth
q er his mother, and farmer Churchill, and El
II len knew anything of his location or employ
Il ment, will not venture to say; but vii
"a say that Mrs. Smith went regularly 10 Serb
+ ner's, and paid the interest on that mortgage
n in Boston bank notes; that farmer Churchill
=, occasionally had letter from the same pac'
,lot Il. ha SsNn Ia, pt.1f
"a rejoice over the event until she cried for yer!
gadneSs.
q Four years have passed sway since young
!, John Smith, with his bundle on his back, tool
: his way toward the Seaboar. Then he wa!
= not quite seventeen years of age; now he il
nearly twenty one. In this long time has h
o regarded well the advice of his good frien'
. the farmer? Has he remembered his mother
and thought often Of his home and of Ellen
Perhaps, we shall see. Let US 20 on witt
our story.
al July hes come. The rich grain is wavin
~ in beauty in tie fields. The mowers are i
- the NE dows. The ye low cora leaves ar
.. rustng in the gentle breeze.
T. Over there stands Ben Scrbner's grog shoT
,e just where it stood four years ago. But th
i, doors and shutters are closed. Ben's custom
r ers have left him, and Othello'S occupation
gone. Look over the hill yonder! Ther
of comes pretty horse buggy, contanin
he a single individual--a gentleman, | shou
its Judge, from his appearance. He looks OF
a. from his beamlng countenance. His hat
10 raised, that his high forehead may catch tn
b. cooling breeze. He eazes about him half f.
o. miliary, as though he recognizes in those o
x. hills aud valleys the acquaintance of pa
20 years.
He drives straight to the door of Ben Scril
In ner, and leaps from his carriage. Ben is coo
for ing himself in the little back paror, but NEE
ID the stranger al the gate. After few wort
lat in low voice they enter the house togethe
ed and Ben turns TO his desk. In snug lit
his drawer he finds what he is searching for, al
t a evidently with some reluctance hands it
rs, The stranger. The latter looks over The pap
At carefully, folds it up pus it in his pocket
OF and hands him roll Of bank notes-then
me leaves the house, jumps into his carriage, al
hO is away. I'll bet my inkstand that paper W
ith the mortgage Of John Smiths farm!
,ed Farmer Churchill has risen from his Dime
her and is sitting in his arm chair for moment
her rest on the piaZzi of his pretty white cottag
Ind Ellen is not less beautiful than she was 70
urn years ago. She is singing, but she stops
uld hear remark Of her father.
hey at is just four years ago to day." said {
good farmer, "sincc your John Smith left I
age | wouldn't wonder if we should see him be
ner before the month is out"
he'd "Why not to-day, fatheri" asked Ellie