East Saginaw courier. (East Saginaw, Mich.) 1859-18??, 1860-05-31
A STORY OF HUMAN NATURE.

/
Some how or other, the old woman ha,
accumulated quite little property. Ye
she was an Indian, and was treated Will
cool contempt by her neighbors. She
had no seat at the social circle, received
no attention from those around her, oo
cupied bgck pew at church, and dowr
toward the grave she travelled without
friend or comforter.
Old Nance had but one friend living
that she knew of, and he wild, grace
less son. He was the terror of the vii.
lsgc, and spent his time in anything but
respectable way. At last, the vaga.
bond so wearied the forbearance of his
old mother, that in hasty moment she
resolved to disinherit him, and leave her
money to the church.
Accordingly she started for the house
of one of the deacons, and made clean
breast of her troubles, and acquainted
him with her determination. The dea-
con grew from COO to very amiable
mood as she proceeded, and, at last, be-
came profuse in his expressions Of graft
tude.
The will, through the agency of the
deacon, was drawn, but the old woman,
feeling little compunction, had a clause
inserted, which should make it void, pro-
vided the son would totally reform his
habits. Secresy was enjoined upon the
deacon, who said nothing about it, ex-
cept to two or three friends, who, of
course, spread it all over the village in
the space of one day.
But the change wrought in the situa-
tion of old Nance was miraculous
"Such good old woman!" The nice
bits from the best table began to journey,
under neat napkins, to her humble abode.
On rainy Sabbath, a carriage took her
up at the door, and carried her to the
church, where she was kindly favored
with a front pew, near the speaker, and
near the stove. Her praise was in every
body's mouth, and her tottering form
commanded respect everywhere. But
she thrived remarkably under this treat.
ment, and lived. In the meantime, the
son was looked upon with more than
usual distrust, and the poor widow was
deeply commiscrated in his disgraceful
course.
Years passed away, and the kind at
tcntions of friends were still continued
to the widow. At last, old Nance slept
the sleep that knows no waking. A
large funeral, one Of the largest the little
village had ever seen, attended her to her
grave in the quiet church-yard. There
were tears shed above her bier, and beni.
sons breathed upon her memory.
The funeral was past. The Deacon,
the Squire, and number of village no.
tables were gathered in her dwelling, and
in one corner Of the room sat the sad
taciturn son.
esquire" said the deacon, "I believe
there is a will"
eyes, there is q will"
"Will you have the goodness to read
it,"
The will was produced. All were ST.
lent. The will was read, in which all the
widows property was bequeatbed to the
church. Many an eye sought the face of
the prodigal son, but saw no change in |
his stolid features.
Wnen the reading was finished, the
son arose, and drawing piece of paper
from his pocket, inquired the date of
"that ar will?"
The date was stated, and handing the |
Squire the paper, the portionless asked
him so read it,
Alas! 1t was will one day younger
than the other. The fond mother in her
weakness had told the son what she had
done, and he managed to have will
drawn twenty-four hours after the previ-
Gus one, in which he was the sole legatee.
The assembled wisdom and disinterest-
edness of the village went home thinking,
and the son had the pleasant satisfaction
Of knowing that his mothers last days
were her best days.
Reader, this is not fiction. 1t is but
Nm instance of our common nature,
which, in similar developments, come be-
fore us with humiliating frequency, alike
in the lowest and highest walks Of life.