The weekly Ottumwa courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1857-1872, 1861-12-18

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this trip Take any six OF eight for; twelve
dollars an fifty cents right straight to the
tahvsrs. Who bids -
"I'll give you fifteen dollars, my friend, to
take myself, my wife, and three children to
the village"
It was Samson Newell who spoke.
an offered fifteen,' cried .he White Bear,
prickipg up his ears "goin' to the tahvern
at fife en- who says fifteen m 'arf?"
81 do y from pursy passenger with a
double chin and heavy fob-chain.
He glanced round alittle savagely, having
made bis bid as who should say, "And
should like to see the man who willraise it !!
ON 'arf! m 'arf m afr cried the
White Bear, growing much excited, "and
who says sixteen ?"
Samson Newell nodded
"Sixteen dollars sixteen sixteen We
can't tarry, gentlemen r
The White Bear proved the truth of this
latter assertion by suddenly disappearing
beneath the snow. He reappeared in an in
slant and resumed his outcry.
81 see the gentleman's SIXTEEN" quoth
the man who had called the White Bear
"sheep- -Shanks, "and 60 fifty cents betterl
II see you," replied the auctioneer, AN
don't take your bid Who says sixteen N
'arf?
II do ~ quoth the Doubts. Chin and he
glowed upon his fellow. passengers wrath
fully.
At this instant appeared Old Wooden on
the scene. In one hand he bore his pocket
book in the other, apaper covered with cal
culations. The latter he studied intently for
moment, then,
"I'll give you sixteen dollars an sixty
two m a half cents an if you ever come
round our way
The jpbaart auction eer, fairly dancing
upon the fence in the energy of his delight,
broke in here
"Can't take no bids gentlemen, short OF
a half-dollar rise, each timer
Old Woolen retired, discomfteds and was
seen no more.
From this point the bidding ran up rap
idly till it reached twenty-five dollars, where
it stopped, Samson Newell being. thu sue
cessful bidder.
1t was study to watch the man, now
that his chance for reaching home that day
frightened. Instead Of being elate, his spir-
its seemed to fall as he made his arrival at
the village certain.
"Ah y he thought, "are my father and
mother yet living? How win my brothers
and sisters welcome me home ?"
How, indeed?
In the village where dwelt Jacob Newell
and his wife, an old man, lame and blind,
had been for over thirty years employed by
the town to ring the meetinghouse-bell at
noon, and at nine o'clock in the evening"
For this service, the salary fixed generations
before was five dollars, and summer and
winter, rain or shine, he Was always at his
post at the instant.
When the old man rang the evening-bell
on the Thanksgiving Day whereof write,
he aroused Jacob and his wife from deep
reverie.
ooh, Jacob 7" said the latter, ''such wa.
king dream as have had | thought they
all stood before me,-all, every one, none
missing And they were little children
again, and had come to say their prayers
before going to bed They were all there,
and | could not drive It from my heart that
loved Samson best ~
His name had hardly been mentioned be-
tween them for fifteen years.
Jacob Newell, with strange look, as
though he were gszing at some dimly de-
fined object afar off, slowly spokc,--
81 have thought sometimes that should
like to know where he lies, ifhe is dead
or how he lives, il he be living. Shall We
meet him? Shall we meet him Five
goodly await us in heaven will he be there.
also? Oh, no! ! he was bad. bad, bad son
and he broke his fathers heart -
"He was bad son, Jacob, giddy and
light-headed, but not arholly tad. Oh, he
was SO strong, so handsome, so bright and
brave! Ifhe is living,T pray God that he
may come back to see US for a little, before
we follow our other lost one y
"Ifhe should come back" said Jacob
turning very white, but speaking clearly and
distinctly, II would drive hlm from my doc,
and tell him to be gone forever A wine.
bibber, passionate, headstrong, having nc
reverence for God or man, no love for his
mother, no sense Of duty towards his father
l have disowncd him, once and forever, and
utterly cast him out Let him beware and
not come back to tempt me to curse him ~
Still from the distance, ovcrpowering and
drowning the headlong rush of passion,
came the soft booming of the evening bell.
~ hear the church bell, Jacob: we have
not long to hear it. Let us not die cursine
our son in our hearts. God gave him to u.s.
and If Satan lead him astray, we know not
how strong the temptation may have been
nor how he may have fought against it,"
Jacob Newell had nought to say in an
swer to that, but, from the passion in his
heart, and from thatcgotism that many goot
men have whose religious education has
taught them to make their personal godli
ness matter to vaunt over, he spoke, fool