The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1860-06-27


est son, who had just crossed his four
teeth birthday, had been obliged to leave
the district school and let himself out as
a 'chore boy to penurious old farmer in
the vicinity of Woodford. r...
So troubles thickened over the heads of
the carpenters little family, and the face
of Mrs. Strong grew paler and more pa
tient day by day.
you just get away from my fathers
pond. if you know what is good for you'll
The loud, harsh tones broke suddenly in
upon the children's voices, and looking up
hastily in the direction of the voice, John
saw Squire Morton's son standing in the
field opposite the meadow, through whose
dark grass the little pond flashed the sill
very embroidery of it's waters. 7ss9a
Now, although the meadow in reality
belonged to the Squire, it was regarded as
public property by all the neighbors. and
the schoolboys assembled every Saturday
afternoon, for piscatory achievements.
amidst boisterous jests and frolic. .,a.z
John Strong was bold, outspoken
boy, and the insolent tones of the Squirrels
son at once aroused all his belligerent
qualities. thast ta ~ =
This pond belongs quite as much to me
as it does to you, sir. and I shall stay
here just as long as like, for all your
orders. u g..
You will, eh? I'd like to know what
right you, poor beggar of a carpenters
son, have to speak to me in that way and
Robert Morton, whose natural overbearing
disposition had been nurtu:ed by the in
diligence of most injudicious parents, ad-
vanced towards the boy, whose senior he
was by two or three years. tauntingly
cracking small riding whip which he
carried in his hand. The angry blood
burned over the face of John Strong,
| while the girls shrieked for fear. ID .asf
Come on he cried, assuming bellig-
erent attitude, and doubling his fists. Pm
not afraid of you, Bob Morton, if you are
the Squire's son, and I'd like first rate to
give you lickin' for that insult ...
1t was not the right action nor the
right answer, but the carpenters son for
got, in that hour of sore temptation, what
many older and wiser heads than his have
done, that it is neither money nor station
which make the true and noble, and self
sustained, and John Strong certainly de
scended when he replied to the taunts Of
the Squirrels son, aggravating as they
were. o., "a bsgi.s
Robert Morton had handsome face
but it was one of those, despite its dark
/ clearly cut features, which your heart
never clung to-one which the more il
was studied the less it was loved; and
now an expression of angry pride dark
ened and distorted every lineament, as h'
stood still moment before John Strong
then lifting his whip, struck kim a quick
sharp blow on the forehead. The mex
moment the two boys closed in. an angr!
struggle. John was the smaller of tn
two, but exercise had developed his mus
cles, and given him a degree of physica
power which'one would scarcely have sus
pected from the first glance. BE sool
succeeded in wrestling the whip from tn
, Squire's son, and after brief struggl
threw him on the ground: and as john
temper had completely overmastered him
he gave his, antagonist severer beatini
than he was himself aware of.
3 'Oh. father, my Johnny sent to Jail
/ shall never be able to lift my head again
and the mother wrung her hands, and tn
a tears scattered themselves over her pal
cheeks.
It was dark day under the roof of th
= little red house of carpenter, Jaso
Strong. 4t3
e The Squirrels son had executed b
q threat, and SO worked upon his father
e sympathies aud Indignation and the stor
8 of the wrongs which he had received, tht
}, he commenced suit against the carper
), ter on account of his son, and the latte
n was sent to Jail, because his father coul
d not raise the hundred dellars which woul
have paid the boys bonds.
7. Jason Strong leaned his head on b
IS hard hands and groaned. while MINI
# and Wealthy, who scarcely comprehende
e the fearful tidings, crept close to each otl
y er in one corner of the kitchen, and slide
o their little brown hands into each other
e and looked with sorrowful faces upon Il
d father and mother.
p MY boy In jail,' murmured the pot
q mother, as she paced, with locked hand
d up and down the room, my boy, that
8 loved SO, and was so proud of, whose Ii
tie brown head have rocked to sleep
q many nights in the cradle yonder.'
g oh, don't, don't wife, groaned Il
n carpenter, and his whole frame shuddert
like sobbing child's while the two gir
'r cried softly in the corner.
10 And just at that moment the gate
,e the red house was opened, and me
l. strobe into the yard, and up to the fro
door-a man, small and somewhat sir
n but having the rumbling gait and sai