Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1859-05-13
POOR TOM.
a PICTURE OF THE RUN TRAFFIC.

away till all was still.
No; all was not still, for a bird was
singing without, and the light breath of
summer came floating into the room
where I lay and bore its tremulous song
to my ear. l arose and looked through
the easement into the latticed porch
The geranium, the rosebush, the vine and
the honeysuckle spreading out their ten
der leaves, obstrueted the view, but new
ertheIess left room for a glimpse into a
pleasant garden, where the flowers are
smiling. How pleasant!
After all, is not this happy world?
Toll !-ToHi
Again that sound; but this time its
faiuting murmurs were caught up and
prolonged by another more deep-toned
than the first. The heinarticulate harmony
tells more forcibly than words, that & man
goeth to his long home, and the mourners
go about the streets" There is sadness
and yet sweetness about the knell-a
murmuring, and yet joy.
Just such a requiem as the saints should
have; sorrow for our loss, joy for their
triumph. But oh ! it may not be the
body of a departed believer that now
takes its last journey Oh, to think
that when the last trumpet shall sound
alas alas!
Come with me, enter a sick chamber.
A bloated form lies before you; the eyes
glare wildly around as he wakes from a
stupid slumber. sepulchral voice breaks
the silence, "where is my bottle" :"
| Tom" replies a middle-aged man by
the bed-side-it was kindly but firmly
spoken, Tom, you have drank all that
was in the bottle; and you shouldn't have
had that, if I had not been afraid you
would sink before your medicine could
act"
81 want my bottle, 1 tell you. I will
have it. I'll get out of this bed, and 90
down into town, and get some for myself"
He rose up in his bed, but his strength
was too far gone. He fell back in a
fainting fit.
A few hours later. Day dies in the
West; the crimson, the gold and blue
that oyerhang, are fading into a sombre
pail, as though this abiding place of ours
were, as it is indeed, one vast charnel
house. Knock Knock Death is at
the door.
Lift NE up" says the dying man.
"Tom, you can't stand it; you are too
weak"
Lift me up, said he sternly to a SER
want. The servant takes hold Of bis
head and raises him up a little. He
tries to rise still further, but the efforl
was too much for him, he sinks back in
his last swoon, draws two'or three breath.
and he is dead
/ TolI!-Toll!
A group of idlers were standing OIL
/ the corner of the street, when presently
there came into view slow procession
Reader, viii you, or your father, or you
brother, or your son, ever lead such {
procession:
Poor Ton" said oneon the sidewalk
The speaker was plump and rubicund
with heavy gold fop-ehain and an EN-
{ broidered cravat, daintily tied around hi
broad neck.
; Poor Tom, he was a good eIeye
fellow when he wasn't drunk. Ny San
was out at the house this morning, an,
went in and took look at the corpse
He says an old woman was standing a
the head of the lounge, when she liffet
up the cover from Toms face, she locke.
fearfuily solemn, and when Sam lad bacI
the coverlet, she took hold of his han,
and said, q Poor Tom IS gone ;; and the
[ the tears came trickling down her face
and she cried as though she would breal
D her heart. BoysI you know Tom wa
: mighty good to his servants when he wa
sober, but he was ike a devil when h
was drunk"
A man who was passing by, paused o
hearing these words, and said to th
speaker, Dir. Jones, I believe he die
u from the effects of liquor, did he not?''
e Z" So am told" was the reply.
: "WeH, did you not sell him the liquor? 4?
D What if / did, If | hadn't, some
body else would. Ard what business
it of mine if he chose to 60 and kill hin
I self with It, I'd Ike to know ?
n 4" You will learn that better than / ca
, tell you in the last day," calmly respond
0 ed the interlocutor, and went on bis wal
S He turned the corner and was out {
q sight and hearing.
Now" said Mr.. Jones, just listen I
that fool. Hus came IN boys rs n,