The Athens post. [volume] (Athens, Tenn.) 1848-1917, 1858-11-26
THE RIGHT ARM: OR THE PATRIOT
AND THE TRAITOR.

Fifty years age terrible storm shook III
city OF London. Al the dead OF the night
when the storm was at is highest, an age'
minister, living near the suburbs Of The city
was aroused by an earnest cry for help
Looking from his window, he behelt rud'
man, clad in the coarse attire OF the sweeper
of the public street. 10 few moments, whil'
the rain came down in torrents, and the storm
growled above, the preacher, leaning on th'
arm OF the seayengcr, threaded his way
through The dark suburbs.
That very day strange old man had fai'
len speeehlessin fsont of the scassnger'
rude home Thcgood-hearied siieei.sweep
4r had taken him in, laid him on his own
bed-he had not spoken onee-and now he
was dying.
This was the story Of the rough mnn.
And now, through dark alleys, among mis-
cradle teuements, that seem TO iopple down
upon their heads, into the lonelcst aud dres'
rcst suburbs they pass. That white-haired
minister and his guide. At last in narrow
court, and up flight of stairs that creaked
beneath their tread, and then into the death
room.
II was, in truth, miserable place.
A glimmering light stood on u broken
chair. There was the rough walls, there the
soliLary gatret Nindow, with the rain beating
through the rags and straw, which stuffed the
broken panes-and there amid heap of cold
ashes the small yalise which it seems the
stranger had with him..
In one corner, on the coarse straw OF the
ragged bed, lay the dying nun. lie was but
half drcssed-his legs were concealed by
military boots.
The aged preacher drew near aud looked
upon him. And ashe -throb--throb-
YOU might hear the death watch ticking In
the shattered wall.
Il was the form Of strong man, grown
old with care more than age,
There was face that you might look upon
once, and yet wear in it your memory. for
ever. Let us bend over the bed and look on
that face.
A bold forehead scanned by one deep wrin.
kle between the brows-long locks Of dark
hair, sprinkled with gray-lips firmly set, yet
quivering as though they had life separate
from the life Of the man-and then two large
eyes vivid, burning, unnatural in their steady
glare.
All, there was something so terrible in that
face-somethng 50 full Of unutterabIc lone
liness, unspeakabe despar-that the aged
minister started back in horror.
But look, those strong arms are cIu,chng
at the vacant nir-the death-sweat starts IN
drops upon the cold orow-the man is dy'
ing!
Throb !-throL! !-throb beat the death
watch in the shattered wall.
"Would you die in the faith OF Chris
tian 2" faltered.the preacher, us he 6nel. there
on the dark floor.
The white lips OF the death-siriesen man
trembled but made no sound.
Then, with the agony OF death upon him
he rose into a sitting posture. For tho fi's'
time, he spoke:
"Christian (" he echoed in that deep tone
which thrilled the teacher 10 the heart, "wil
that faith give me back my honor! Come
with me--with me far, far over the water.-
liza! We are there This is my native home
Yonder is the church in which ! knelt IL
chldhood-yonder the green on which
sported when boy. But another flag thar
TINT waved when was n child. And listen
old man: were TO pass this street as pass
ed when but u child, tho very babes in lhei
cradles would raise iheiS tiny hands and curs
me. The graves in yonder churchyard woul'
shrink from my footsteps, and yonder haI
would stain baptism of blood upon M
heart"
That was an awful dea,h-bed. The min
lister had watched the "last night" with
hundred conyicts in their cells aud yet neve
beheld scene as terrible rs this.
Suddenly the dying man arose. lie tot
tered along the 6oor With those white tn
gers, whose nails aro blue with the death
chill, he threw open the vnlise. lie Shove
his military coat trimmed with silver, an ol
parchment, n piece Of cloth tha, looked lik
the wreck of battle flag.
"Look ye, priest, this faded coat is spo,te
with my blood" he cried, as old memUre
seemed stirring 1T his heart. This is the la'
coat wore when planted the banner Of III
stars on Ticonderogu. That bullet-hole wa
pierced in the fight u, Quebec; now-l am
let mo whisper In your ear"
"Now, help me, priest" he snid in vote
growing suddenly tremulous; "hclp me pit
on thi, coat Of Jac and silver. For you see
and gaosiIy smile came over his face, "ther
is no one to wipe the cold drops from N
brow: no wife, no child must meet deaf
nlone; bat will meet him, US met him
battle, without fear"
While he stood arraying himself in tha
worn. eaten coat Of blue and silver, ,be GOO
pre, cher spoke to him Of faith in Jesus. fe'
of that great faith which pierccs the clouds o
human guilt, and rolls them back from th
face Of God.
Faith" echoed the strange msn, who stoo
there erect. with ,hs deaih-ligh; in his eye
"Fai,h, can II give me back my honor' LooI
yc, priest, :here over the waves sits Georg
Washington, telling TO his comrades tn
pleasan, story Of the eight years ~ar--iher
in hi. royal hall sits George of England be
vailinc IN his idotic voice the loss Of hi