The Cass County Republican. [volume] (Dowagiac, Mich.) 18??-1880, 1863-08-27

Cigar
We took cigar, and Nathan asked
if Deacon Clary was about home.
"Wal, yes, guess he is. Want ter
see him, s'pose 2"
"Do you know whether he spends
his time at the store ?"
"Wal, yes, raythsr guess so busi-
ness sorter dull at the shipyard now.
Deaoon's growing old, Wells the rest
of us. Know him ?"
"I have seen him. Has he much of
family to leave his large property to p"
"Wal, yes-that is-no. Wife died
twenty odd years ago. Two boys
died afterwards; three girls married,
one ter home-sickly, some say con-
sumptive, but | rayther guess not
takes artsr her mother, who was puny
little thing; but everybody liked her.
Folks say the deacon's kinder runnin'
down-don't know how 'tis-rayther
guess he'd better sell his meetin'- '-house!
Ha, ha, ha p
Nathan fell into revsrie, and our
Yankee entertainer having failed to as
certain our business, and finding US
rather taoiturn, placed fresh candle
upon the table and retired.
/
sold Richards does not recognize
me-" said Nathan when his heavy foot
steps died away. "Are you sleepy,
Tom2 / feel like talking over those
old times tonight, if you would care
to hear them"
Scare to hear them! As though l
hadn't been dying with curiosity for
the last three hours"
He smiled languidly, and tossed his
cigar out of the window. / elevated
my feet to the window easement, and
snuffed the candle; but deeper shad-
ow settled down upon Nathan's face as
he began his tale.
"Those roses, Tom." pointing to the
roses that grew by the little brown
house, which he had carefully placed in
a pitcher of water, "those roses have
made me strangely childish. / feel
lonely, Tom, as though l had no friends
in the world; and tonight, after 1 left
you, l went up on the hill, and l really
thought it would be a very pleasant
thing to die and be laid to rest down
there in the chureh-yard. / never feel
SO when am in the store, and / don't
know what ails me. Perhaps it is the
influence of all those old associations !:
the rush of old memories oppresses me,
and makes me feel alone and lonely.
1 feel that l have nothing to live for or
care for"
"You need home, Nat" / ven-
tured to suggest, for / was panied at
his sadness. "You really ought to
have a nice home of your own, and
then you wouldn't be SO possessed with
these blue devils"
He shook his head, and went on.
"My earliest recollectiens are of walk.
ing between my parents to the little
white church on the hill, dressed in a
new rig of plaid shirt frock and white
trousers. think it was the pride en-.
gendered byt nice new suit of clothes,
which stamped the trivial circumstance
so firmly on my mind. The inside of
that house, the hard old preacher, the
bald-headed cid men, scattered over
the house--there were eight bald-heads.
for counted them every Sunday-the
Clary's in the front pew, are all as plain
to my memory as the incidents of to-
day. Our seat was in the wing pew,
and commanded view of the entire
house, situation highly gratifying a
child of FIVE, who somtimes wearied
of following the profound arguments of
learned discourse up to |" fifteenthly," !"
"lastly," and "finally, my brethren" !"
and who took intense pleasure in watch
ing the maneuvers Of roguish little
folks, and the vain efforts of sleepy big
folks to keep their eyes wide open.
"The Clary's sat in the front pew
that faced the pulpit. There were five
children in that pew then, afterwards
there were six, The deacon was a
slender man, pale and thin-featured,
with wide mouth, and lips drawn
stiffly and tightly over his prominent
front teeth. I used to watch his face
to see if his features ever moved or
changed; but his lips never unolesed
through the long sermon. / describe
him as he seemed to me then, boy Of
FIVE, and tell you the points that inter
ested me then. He always followed
his family into church, because other
men preceded theirs, / suppose, and
j when the door opened, and Mrs. Clary