New Oregon plaindealer. (New Oregon, Iowa) 1859-1866, 1862-03-14

"atcneo over nm JUST as might
over my own child: and did all that I
could but that wasn't much. I only
eased his suGerings little, till he died
and then I closed his eyes: and saw him
buried decently and Christianlike-
poor boy AWAY out there in that
strange land, thousands of miles away
from his home and family.
The ship-carpenter paused moment,
and then, clearing his throat, contin-
ued
'Just before he died, he became con-
scious for short time, and the delir-
iousness left him. He called me to
him, and said he knew he was going to
die, and wanted me to do him favor.
YOU'RE likley to ship for England,
some time, Andy says he; 'and if
you ever get to Liverpool, I want you
to take trip to S., about hundred
miles back in the country, and find my
mother and sister. Tell 'em all about
mellow I died and all--and give them
my kit and pay. They'll treat you just
like you was the son and brother and
you can stay just as long as you please.
Now, mind ; if you ship for Liverpool,
only ship for the outward voyage, and
promise me you'll take my last blessing
to my poor old mother
II promised, and he went to sleep,
feeling easy. He never woke up again
in this world.
"We,l, l knocked around, up and
down the world for about eleven years,
before I ever got to Liverpool but
didn't forget Andy, nor my promise to
him. That Liverpool voyage was the
last taste Of sealaring life. 1 went from
New York, shipping only for the pas
sage out, and taking Andy's kit, his
watch, his Bible, his money, and ev-
erything just as he had left them.
eve had an awful nasty voyage. The
captain and mate were pair of brutes,
and 1 was right glad to get ashore ::
especially as 1 had saved up a pretty
good little bit of money, and intended
to take a good long rest in the quiet
English village of S., if l liked An
dy's folks as well as 1 had liked him.
"lt was night when 1 arrived in the
place but 1 inquired for widow Bunn's
house. and went there at once. No.
body answered my knock, so in / walk
ed, without ceremony, to pleasant,
home-like sort of sitting-room, where a
tea-table was set, ready for the fami
ly.
Just as 1 went in at the front door,
a fine-looking old lady in black came in
from the adjoining kitchen, with plate
or tray in her hands.
"She looked at me for half minute ;
and then, dropping the dishes on the
floor, fell into my arms, crying and
laughing, and calling me her dear son
Andy, and behaving like a mad WON.
an.
"A young woman-a very pretty girl
of about twenty-one or two-came down
stairs, on hearing the outcry, and went
through the same performances herseli
addressing me as her brother, and ask.
ing me fifty questions without waiting
tor an answer to one.
Il knew: of course, that this was the
mother aad sister l had heard of so Of
ten and you can imagine: sir, how
awkwardly l was fixed between them
Their joy was perfect in welcoming, as
they thought their son and brother
back to his old home, and now l had tc
undeceive them most cruelly-to tel
them that they had been kissing an(
caressing a stranger and that the
other Andy was dead and buried, 70,
eleven long years, in distant land
"Still, that was the honest thing ]
had to do and l don't know what devi
prompted me to keep up the mistake
pass myself off for the widows son
and to assume his identity instead il
place of my own. | can't justify my
self in it, or apologize for it on any
l..>..4 =ele. l.