Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1859-09-16
MIS- G. ELL A N Y.
FARMER PIXIES GRANDSON
IN VIRGINIA. z. rowNsENp.

words as our aunt came into the sitting
room whcre we were lounging away the
pleasant summer afternoon.
I SEQ her now, though hall score Of years
has the grave dust hidden that face from the
eye that loved il. as she came through the
door, with her sot low step, with her lilac.
colorcd shawl, and her Leghorn bonnet,
trimmed with white satin ribbon. Aunt
Esther Ice was our ia,her's only sister. and
she had been chillss. widow for many
years. the latter part Of which she had pas
scd at our home.
Cousin Alice Lake was passing the va
cation with Us. There was not years
difference in our ages, and we had been
schoolma,es from early childhood, and !
believe sisters seldom love each other as we
did.
That afternoon Aunt Esther had started
out on a yi,i, TO Farmer Pixies the rich old
widower, whose great ycllow.brown house
stood on the turnpike, half mile from our
house.
Farmer Pike was strange hard man.
You would have felt this, with ono glance
at hl. strong rugged features, hls iron gray
hair and bis large muscular person which
had not bowed itssli with the weight OF
thrcc.scorc years.
lie lived with his housckccpsr and his
hircd men. in the great yellow.brown house
an honest, industrious man, bat without a
single affection or social sympathy in the
world with life as cold. stark and bar
ren as desert. over whose bosom no run.
ming spring winds i,s necklace of jcwels in
whose dry dead heart no sweet dover opens
its lips to the sunshine.
let Farmer Pixies liro had its tragedy
80 believe all lives have, five coulG un.
lock the hidden cabinets where they are
laid away from every eye bu, Gods.
Many years ago Farmer Pike had mar
ried woman much younger than himself
woman with one OF those gentle, shrink.
ing. mimosa natures that seemed to have
few points Of sympathy with his coarse
rugged character.
However. | believe they got on well to-
sether, and it is probable that the gentle
vile called out whatsoever Of tenderness
there was in the coarser soul OF her bus.
band. A, last. son was born to them.
and the delicate mother fell INTO decline,
and before her boys life had covered its
third year, the grass had laid ITS green GOV.
erinc over the mothers head.
Mrs. Pike and Aun, Esther Lee were
schoolmatcs, and had always been friend.
- the farmer placed Joseph under hsr care
and ho continued to reside wlth her until
my mothers death, which occurred several
years later, when my aunt came to Us, and
the boy wen, home to his father.
Joseph was warm.hearied, but terri
bly, seli.wllled boy. My aunt bad more
influence over him than any other person,
for she loved him almos. as though no were
her own child. believe, too. Farmer
Pike was very fond Of hi. handsome boy;
but he was cold, undemonstrative man,
and be and Joseph never 80. on we'll to-
sc,hcr.
As the boy grew older his father deter.
mined upon making him farmer, but Jo-
seph's active, energetic nature rcvolted at
this life ; ho was bent upon going out into
the world, and trying his fortune there.
knew tho old yellow house witnessed some
terrible contests between the fathers will
and the sons determination there were
harsh threats on one side and sullen resis.
,ancc on tho other, until, worn out with
these things, Joseph made up his mind to
Z" run away and 20 to sea-"
lie did this with his usual harsh impul-
si1eness aud then Farmer Pike in his wrath
lifted up his hand and swore solemnly that
Joseph should not inherit, dollar Of his
property, that he would never SEQ nor
speak to HIM again to the day Of his death.
And he kept his word. lie lived in the old
yellow.brown house, a lonely, childlcss old
man, broadening his acres every year. and
broadening too, by his cold, selfish, un.
productive life. the gulf between him ani
the kingdom of heaven.
One day in the late spring, however, an
old man and a little golden.haired child
stopped at our house, and asked for Aunt
Esther Lee. Then, for the fret time in oil
these years, we heard OF Joseph Pike.
Life with him had been no " dance OF
roses" but long sharp struggle. lie had
married young, and, his children diedyoung
and his vile had been lald beside them, lea
wing him only the golden.haired boy that
stood before US.
Joseph inherited the delicate constitution
OF his mother. and his health tailed under |
all these trials. lie had wandered from
place to place in search of new strength;
but he had failed rapidly. aud at last him
self gave up all hope Of recovery. Then
he wrote to my aunt, the mother Of his
boyhood, as be called her. and bequeathed |
to her tenderness his only child, no, four
years old. And the old man who brought
him to us was one whom Joseph had once
rescued from drowning, and who remained
with him out OF gratitude, to the last hour
Of his life.
Aunt Esther bowed her head over those
golden curl', aud said, while tho tears drop
ped fast on the bright face that was 30