Holmes County Republican. [volume] (Millersburg, Holmes County, Ohio) 1856-1865, 1857-09-24

air meanwhile working destruction to his
lungs, and whirling bis gray hairs about
with no gentle touch. Nought was to be
heard in the apartment, save the loud
clinklng of the shining metal: The old
man seemed to have suspended his breath
that he might fully enjoy the sharp ring:
ing sound, as one after another he tossed
the golden pieces on the rapidly increasing
pile. A neighboring clock bioke the 81.
lence, as it tolled with heavy, mournful
peals the hour of two.
The last sounds had died echoing away,
and the miser had the last two pieces in
bis hands. Balancing them on his fore
fingers. he struck them, together, and lis
tened with evident glee to the musical
sounds they gave out. With sigh, he
cast these with the rest, and was about to
put them back into the bags again, when
faint noise, as of heavy breathing, caused
him to turn, and look behind him.
The old man started back with alright
for there he beheld before him no less a
person than his nephew. His dress was
disordered, and splashed with mud, his
eyes bloodshot and his cast of counten-
ance actuslly demoniac. A moment the
uncle and nephew stood, as if statues sculp-
tured out of The purest marble. The young
man broke the silence:
"Give me money, Paul-gold-aye gilt
tering gold. I've been unlucky with the
cards tonight. Quick! for 1 must be of
again! Give NE gold-goldr'
Aud he rushed furiously towards the
chest. Springing between the infuriated
man and his idol, he begged him not to
take it. In the depth Of his despair, he
sunk down upon his knees, and implored
him to leave the place. Then, finding
that prayers and tears were of no avail,
he sprung up with the vigor of youth, and
planting himself firmly against his oaken
casket, dared the other to toch his trea-
sure at his peril. The old man would
fight for his god-gold.
Infuriated as he was, Charles could
brook no defiance. Rushing quickly to-
ward him, they. grappled. Long was the
contest. The one, fighting tor his all, felt
his old limbs nerved with the strength of
youth while in tie other, desperation alone
held sway. For a time, it seemed doubtful
who would be the victor. They round
and round the narrow apartment, by the
candles feeble light, the old mans gray
hairs mingling with his nephew's raven
locks, as they whirled around in the dead
ly contest. The miser was growing weak !;
his fingers were gradually relaxing their
grasp, and he was about to succomb, when
he caught sight of his dazzling gold
withrenewed strength, he struggled around
narrow subterranean apartment. He
whirled his youthful antagonist against the
wall, and there held him with vice like
grip.
But this state of affairs could not long
exist. Human nature could bear no more,
and youth triumphed over old age; for
with one muscular effort the young man
cast his weaker antgonist heavily to the
stone pavement, and in moment more
Paul Genot ceased to breathe.
Without paying any further attention to
his uncle, he eagerly ran toward the treas
ure, and quickly filling the bags, retraced
his steps. Hurrying quickly up the stair
way, he struck his head against the trap
door, which he had closed after him when
he entered. He pushed against it with all
his might, but could not move it an inch.
II closed sUith a spring! He flung down
his ill-gotten riches, and shouted for help;
but the mocking sounds only augmented
bis agony. In vain he screamed. His
voice, made feeble by the dampness Of his
subterranean prison, could not penetrate
the solid walls of masonry, nor could his
feeble blows be heard by other ears than
his own. There was no help for him.
God had taken this as fit time to punish
each for his sins, and had shut up the liv-
ing with the dead!
Many years after, when row of dilap-
idated houses was torn down, beneath one
of them they found two grinning, ghastly
skeletons; one being on a flight Of stone
steps-the other stretched out beside an
iron-bound chest, and guineas scattered
around the apartment in every direction.
1t is needless to tell the reader of whom
these were the remains. Suffice it to say,
that to this day, old men will sit for hours
over their ale, relating the various attrib-
utes and horrible fate of Paul Genot, the
Miser!