Plymouth advertiser. [volume] (Plymouth, Ohio) 1853-1988, 1855-08-04

eysuckle. red rose, and sweet briAr hold il
enlaaglel in netwoFk: they fall over the
little windows. making twilight at mid
noon, vet nobody has ever thought OF cut
ting them away or tying up = single ten
dril. Grandfather Markham and his
daughter Alice, with John Drewit, her hus-
band and master OF the house, used TO live
there. aud they hal three little children,
Jane, Henry, aud Joe.
A little room over the porch was espe-
eially neat. 1t was the best room in the
cottage, and therein was lodged old Ma <
ham, who hal, SO far as the means OF his
children went. the best of board as well.
Hs was not very old man, but looked ten
years older than he was, aud his hand shook
through the iniirnity more grievozs than
age. He was gin drinker. John Drewit
had to work very hard to keep his own
household in food and clothing, but also
his poor father-in-law in drink.
John was hale young man when first l
knew him. but he soon began to alter
As soon as it was light he was to the sand
cliff by a pleasant winding path through
the beec lwood and on the steps which his
own spade had cut. One or two he had
made broader than the rest at intervals,
where one might willingly sit down to sur
vay the glory spread beneath; the low,
white, straw thatched forms cleaning like
light amongst the pasture lands, the little
towns each with It's shining rivers, and the
great old city in the hazy distance: the
high beacon hills, the woods, and far as
the eve could see the mist that hung over
the immsnie atlantic. This resting on
the upward path, at first a pleasure, be-
cams soon a matter of necessity. and that
too, long before the colgh had settled down
on him; few men in Whiteknights have
their lungs so whole that they climb up to
their pits without halt or two.
The old man helped his son-in-law some
times. lie was a good sort Of old man by
nature. anil not bit more selfish than
drunksrd always must be. He ground the
rough stones into shape at home, minded
ths children in his daughters absence, and
even used the pick himself when he was
sober. John, too. was for his wiie's sake
tolerant o. the old man ;nirmity, though
half his little earnings went to crafty the
Old mas appetite. At last necessity
compelled him to be, as h, thought, un-
dutiful Print after print vanished from
the cottage walls, every little ornament,
not actually necessary furniture, was sold :
absolute want threatened the household,
when John at last stated firmly, though
tendcrly, that grandfather must give up
the gin-bottle OF find some other dwelling
Alice was overcome with tears, but when
appealed to by the old man, pointed to
her husband, and bowed her head to his
wise words.
For some months after this time, there
were no more drunken words nor angry
tongues to be heard within Johns pleas
ant cottage. Nothing was said by daugh
ter OF son-in-aw Of the long score at thu
public house that was being paid off b,
instalments: the daughter looked no long
sr at the father with reproachful eyes, am
the children never again had to be takel
to bed before their time-hurried ava.
flom the sight of their grandfather
shame. At last, however, on one Sun
day evening in July, the ruling passion
had again the mastery: Markham cam
home in a worse way than ever: and II
addition to the usual debasement, it wa
Nilent that he Was possessed by som
naudlin terror, that he had no power t
express.
Leaving him on his bed in a lethargi
sleep, John sailed forth as usual at dawn
his boys, Harry and Joe, carrying up 70
him his miners spade and basket Heav.
hearted as he was, he could not help beln;
glaliened by the wonderful beauty of tn
landscape. His daughter told me tina
she never saw him stand so long lookin
at the country-he seemed unwilling t
leave the sunlight for MS dark, far-wind
ing burrow. His burrow he had no rea
son to dread. Poverty had never presse
SO hard on John Drewit as to induce hir
to sell away the fir props that assured tt
safety OF his life. Often and often ha
his voice been loud against those men, win
knowing full we'll of the mortal dang
to which they exposed their neighbcr
gave drink or money in exchange for the
to the toolhardy and vicious. Grea
therefore, was his horror when he we
into his cave that morning, and found th
his own props had been removed. Th
had not been taken from the entran,
where a passer-by might have observ
their absence all was tight for tho fl
twenty yards, but beyond that distar
down to the end Of his long toilworn
byEinth every pole was stripped aw'
Surely he knew at once it was not an {
emy who had done this he knew that
wretched old man who lay stupefed
home, had stolen and sold his defence
drink. All that the poor fellow told
boys was that they should keep wit
the safe part of the diggihgs while he hi
self worked into the rock as usual. Tn
or four times he brought out a heap
scythe-stonas in his basket, and then
was sem alive no more.
Harry, his eldest son, was nearest
the unproppcd passage when the sal
cliff fell When he heard his father
out suddenly, he ran at once eagerly,
wards the candle where the miner work
but On sudden all was dark there
no light from candle or from sun-bet
and behind was utter blackness, and IL
was noise like thunder in his ears.
whole hill seemed to have fallen on IL
both, and many tons of earth parted
father from his child. The sand ab