Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1861-07-06
MOrtester 4a1lp Spp.
sYMKIN sLINK,s MONEY-RAG.


Symkin Stink was tinker by trade but
business somehow did not thrive with him ; he
could manage from his earnings to live, but
that was all, he resided in small house, con.
slsting OF one room, which was scantily fur
nished. In front Of his little dwelling, he had
erected himself booth in which to display
his wares, and would set there day after day
watching for customers to come and buy, who
never did come, and, as of course, didn't buy.
His father had been tinker before him with
equal success. Old Stink had once been a
rich man, at least so he boasted but misfor-
tune had fallen thick upon him, and he had to
work hard to gain living for himself and son.
When talking of his former state OF plenty, he
would refer to an old canvass bag, which he
declared he once kept full Of bright gold
pieces.
"My son, Symkin," he would say, "when
you can fill that bag as it was once filled, you
will be rich man, and need envy no noble in
all the land"
And thereupon he would take mighty
draught of ale indeed, he was rather too fond
of mighty draughts and was, | am sorry to
say, rather disreputable character, and fin
ished by drinking himself out of this world.
Sympkiu was not of Responding mind, so,
when left to shift for himself, he worked man.
fully, and always looked on the bright side of
to see the silvery lining, and take no note of
the sable clouds, so people, like fools, of course
when they find themselves in the queens
bench, will not be merry and JcVia, but curse
their fate and say they are miserable crea.
lures. Bnt others, true philosophers of the
world, when they march off to that place of
confinement, only think of the great pleasure
it will be when they get out again. mo, one, }"
the jovial philosopher will say, "who has al
ways been at large can know such pleasure
as this" And is he not right AS l cannot
speak from experience, had better not speak
at all.
Symkin worked hard, say, and if each
man had his deserts, he would have been over
flowing with wealth. But it was not to be,
and Symkin took it all for the best. He had
hung up the old mpney-bag in his room, and
when he had an idle fit come upon him, he
would look upon his fathers legacy
"Symkin," he said at such times "you have
got to fill that bag with broad pieces, SO get to
work, you lazy dog p
With all his poverty, Symkin was happy
man. We, speak OF the middle class, are apt
to wonder how the mechanic who works hard
all day, can be content with his lot, and does
not long to live in snch houses as we do. No
doubt the mechanic thinks the same of the
Irish laborer, and the duke and duchess of us.
Of course ali men wish for more but is not
our ambition for a large house and carriage
and six-toot flunkies, and | know not what,
the same thing al the mechanics longing for
a little more pay and little less work, a
little more pleasure and little less pain, and
so on
And so Symkin Stink was happy-and
would have been able to supply the sultan, in
the eastern story with that celebrated shirt
which was so necessary to his health-but for
one thing for which he still longed. He wish
ed to be married. and how could he marry on
such ridiculous earning as his =? And he
thought the only way to get out of the diff
Guilty was to fill that money bag at home but,
all he never could fill it,
He had fallen in love already, as a sort of
preparation for the event which he had hoped
would some day happen. Joan Mincing 1.-THE
daughter of the Widow Mincing, who kept the
Golden Belly was his choice, and it was
settled that as soon as that wonderful money
bag was filled they should be man and wife,
but not till then.
One evening Symkin took his parting cup
at the Golden Bell, and was stri6ing on as fast
as his long legs would carry him, when he fell
a thinking or MS affairs and he thought
great deal about them, too lie turned them
this way and he turned them that, but always
came to the same conclusion, which was, that
the bag had nothing in it, and that he saw no
chance of anything getting there and so he
thought and thought, and thought, when
clnk-his foot struck against something, and
of course it was a purse. Ay and purse
worth the finding, too; it was one OF those
bags, embroidered on the front, which the no.
bility of that time wore at their girdes. With
trembling fingers Symkin undi1 the button,
peeped in, cut Il caper, threw his stick into the
river, and ran home as fast as lie could.
Once there, he boted the door, looked to
the fastening OF the shutter, and proceeded to
examine his treasure ; there were plenty of
gold pieces there, and he counted them over
and over again, and chiDked them on the ia.
bic, placed them in line, in circle, tumbled
them into heap, and ran them through his
fingers. Besides the gold, he found some rich
jewels, a gold chain, or necklace, with
large ruby hanging thereto,) a bracelet and a
brooch. The next thing he did was to take
down his money bag, and cram it full of the
precious metal.
"Ah ah! ' said he, rafting it against the
table, "filled at last, old boy | need envy no
nobleman now"
When the first transports of his joy were
over he dug a hole in the clay floor beneath
his straw pallet, and there buried the bag Sc
curely, and retired for the night. But he
could not sleep; every noise he heard he fan
cied was a thief, the swinging of the sign
board sounded like some one forcing the door,
the wListling of wind down the narrow lane
he imagined was burglar signalling to his
comrade, the splash of the river he took for
footsteps so he was Obliged to take down a
large BILL and stand guard over his treasure
until daylight streamed in at the chinks Of the
window.
He shut up his house that day earlier than
al ban
his person. having first examined the contents
a second time. l fear he never thought of
seeking who was the rightful owner; but if
he had there were no police in those days
only the watch, who were anything but de-
tective so he took out the brooch as a present
for Joan. He didn't walk so jauntily as usual,
but looked at every one whom he met with
suspicion, and grasped his cudgel firmly He
was not used to be disturbed in his sleep of
nights, but last night he certainly was wake
full he was not used TO bolt and bar the door
but rest in ease, with the idea that nobody
would think it worth their while to enter
heretofore, when he walked abroad, he had a
merry greeting for all, and was in no fear of
foot-pads, for all they could expect from him
was broken head. But, all he was a rich
man now, and had something to lose; so he
walked and slept uneasily, and was in constant
fear. In this uneasy manner he sped on, UNI
til he came in sight of the Golden Bell, when
he breathed more freely; SO he stepped on
jauntiy, strobe across the threshold of the
tavern into the little parlor, and roared, "a
cup of mued sack, drawer!"
CHAPTER H.-How sYMKIN SPED WITH HIS
TREASURE.
Widow Mincing was sharp, matter of-fact
woman, who attended her business well, and
was shrewd and yet kind. When she first
discovered the LITTLE love affair hptwpen SYM.
kin and Joan, she did all in her power to stop
it; but when it became too strong for her, she
wisely gave in. For all that, she looked upon