The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1855-12-01
The Tables Turned.

The Tables Turned.
| "ile's a scoundrcl-a base, hcartless, un-
principlcd scoundrel, and deserves to rot in
Jail. Don't talk to me about pity and mcr-
cy, when nc owed me twelve hundred dol
lars, and hasn't been the man to pay a cent
Of il. Ought to pity him? iluinph!"
"iou do wrong, my dear husband, in
speaking SO harshly of Mr.. Milton. lie is
unfortunate, it is true, but honest No man
stood higher in this community than he did,
more leniently upon the msiortunes of a
kind ncishbor and brother in the church"
ayes, great neghbor and church bro,
ther he is-break down and cheat me out Of
my pay, and after waiting on him so long,
too Don't talk to me about brother. III
have him turned out, see if don't"
"Supposing you should have bad fortune
and bee ,me poor, would you like to be de-
nounced as scoundrel by your neigh.
bors!"
al always pay my debts. An honest man
always pays his debts. Can't trust nobody
in these times. never will sign for man
again as long as live"
1t was in vain that Mrs Wilson plead
with her angry husband for the unfortunate
debtor. She sadly bowed over her work,
and he passed to the store.
/ William Milton had failed and the little
village was astir with the news of the event.
Those who were his friends before now re-
membered that they always saw something
in the man which was not right-thcy had
expected something OF the kind before lie
was certainly dishonest man. And so his
old neighbors turned in to give him kick in
his downhill course.
/ 4 more honorable, high souled man than
| Vim. Milton never lived. lie was tho soul
/ Of honor. His heart, hand, home and
purse were always open, and many were the
/ good deeds on record in his favor. Nor had
all his neighborhood forgotten hspast good,
ness. While business men turned to rend
him, there were poor people who deserted
, not.
/ Milton was crushed man. Misfortunes
had come thick upon him, and his strong
spirit at last gave way. His lovely wife had
died, and lay in her grave, with her young.
est born on her breast. His son, a prom
/ sing child Of ten summers, died few weeks
after the mother. His shop had caught tire
about the same time, and burned up. Sick
ness came on 20 paralyzc the strong arm,
and when Milton again stood on his feet,
| everything was a wreck His wcll.to-do
| ncghbor Stunned him as though there were
contagion in his presence, aud debts came
| upon him to finish what sickness had 50 spa.
ringly commenced.
| On the morning Of the conversation at the
head of this story, he had asked employ.
mcnt as journcyman, and had been taunt-
ngly refused. He now sat in his house, his
great hear! swelling with bitterness and dark
with gloom. lie voluntarily cast his eyes
about as If looking for a familiar counselor
his lips quivcrcd a moment and a,ear drop
ped from his check. y wife and two loved
ones had passed away and but one Of his
little flock was left him. While he was sit
ting drcamy by his hearth, the door was
room, and stood hesitaf ~ y looking a, him.
And then by sudden impulse, the boy
went up to where Milton wal nd put a pa
per into his hai-opcncd palm, quickly disap.
pcaring through the door into treet-
Milton opened the paper and ul1alf wv
dropped uron the floor Milton read
"You have clothed and fed the needy
you have been good to the widow and ia
thercss. Accept the widows mite in the
hour Of your trouble"
The paper trcmblcd in Nilton's hauds, and
he bowed his head and wcpt. Then lifting
/ his form more proudly, he arose and strode
more restlcssIy backward and forward
through the room.
"No! thank God, they are not all against
me-not all. The poor remember me. -
The bankrupt was happier, and he had
, again faith in humanity.
Z The creditors made short work with Mil
tons affairs, for poverty finds little mercy.
His household effects did not near pay off
the demands against him. After all had
gone under the hammer, the remorselcss
debtor law came in and attached the body,
and the high-soulcd Milton was taken to the
debtors cell. His frail daughter followed
him, and as her pale and wasting features
passed through the streets, the light word
was hushed and the more feeling yielded
/ tear for the fate Of the family. 1t was at the
instigaton of Wilson that Milton had been
arrested and imprisoned. When his wife
told him CT the pale-faccd daughter and how
/ sad she looked as she went to the cell, a
sckcning, guilty sensation crept into the
/ merchants heart. But he was too proud to
acknowledge his wrong. The law was with
him, and he would not relax
Six months wore away, and the case of
Milton was seldom spoken Of His daughter
sickcncd and died in jail, and, for the first
time since his Imprisonment, he was taken
out-takcn out to attend her funeral. As
Wilson looked upon his old neighbor at the
grave hc half made up his mind to forgive
him the debt. But he feared to rctracc the
step he Lad taken. Milton had not asked
any lavors of him, and he had no reason to
expect clemency. Had the debtor sued for
clcmency, the merchant would have taken
great credit in opening his prison doors.
When Milton first came into the village,
there was an orphan boy, wild, uncared for,
and singularly vicious, the dread Of all the
neighborhood For some petty act laid to
his charge, he was sent to Jail. Milton was
jailor, and being keen judge Of human ma
ture hc soon found that the boy had been
more sinned against than SHINING. Putting
money into the orphans hands, and letter
to friend in New Orleans, Milton unlocked
the Jail door, and bid his prisoner good bye.
Fifteen years had passed since then.
Late one summer afternoon, Milton sat in
his CELL his face buried in his hands, and
his broken spirit wrapped in gloomy
thoughts. The door was slowly opened,
and a stranger stood looking at the prisoner.
The stranger was of noble form and mien,
his features swarthy but handsome, and his |
apparel Of the richest material Milton stir.
red not, supposing the jailor stood before
him.
"VUlidm Milton !"
The prisoner started at the sound of the |
strange voice, and looked vacantly upon the .
visitor.
"You have forgotten me, Milton"
81 know you not, mechanically answered
Milton.
With quick movement, the stranger
stepped forward and kneeled on the floor,
and clasped the prisoners hands, kissing
them again aud again.
"Dont you know me and yet for fifteen
years no waking hour has passed in which
| have not thought of you as my earthly sa.
vior. From this same cell you once led me
forth and gave me money and your blessing.
| have come long journey to see and bless
,Nl IL. y