The weekly pioneer and Democrat. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. Territory) 1855-1865, 1863-02-20
AN OLD CLERGYMAN'S STORY

One afternoon, | was startled in my
study by hearing the sound of an axe in
the rear of the house. l was wondering
who could be there, disturbing the almost
Sabbath stiffness of the midsummer day,
when Maria, the housemaid, came to in
form me that there was strange man at
the woodpile, and to request that should
go and see who he was.
| looked from window, and discovered
an addressed fellow carelessly swinging
the axe, and hacking here and there stick
in an undecided manner, with his head
down, and his face shaded by the brim of
very bad hat
There was something in his staggering
attitude which l thought recognized; but
it was sometime before could realize that
in those beggarly habiliments saw the
son Oh one Of the most worthy and re-
spected citizens in the neighborhood.
stepped to the door.
Martin Lockwood, l said, sis it you 2"
81 suppose it's me-" said he, giving the
axe reckless flourish with one hand, and
striking it into log 81 thought would
cut little wood for you, by way of amuse-
ment"
made no answer, and he stood mo-
ment Looking at anything except up
rolling the quid in his cheek, and wiping
the sweat from beneath his -brim-with
an evident attempt to keep up the old
staggering manner, while conscious shame
was mastering him.
81 guess you are little astonished at
seeing me, he said, after an awkward,
pause, resuming his hold on the axe-handle
and leaning on it.
"Ges, Martin, am good deal aston
ished.''
GIVE way OF astonishing folks. as
tonish inyselfa little hardly know how
| came here, but here / am. If I'm not
welcome, III put off again. The world is
wide. I'm bound to live somewhere. A
man must live, you know
He laughed at first, but his voice grew
hard and bitter, and there was look of
wildness and desperation in his eyes, as he
proceeded; and | saw that the shame
which covered him was being shaken and
flung away by rising and swelling passions.
1ou are welcome, Martin come in. :"
He flung down the axe which he had
again seized, with savage recklessness. and
followed me, swinging his hat, and taking
long strides through the hall, with haught-
mess defiant of rags
''If | had thought you came to see me.
Martin, should have welcomed you be-
fore. You have picked up new fashions in
your travels. | am not used to visitors
who 60 chopping at the wood-pile, instead
of knocking at the door. Sit down; I'll
take your hat"
He sank Fslouchingly into chair; but
instead of giving me his hat, he scaled it
carelessly into one corner Of the room.
81 suppose 1 wouldn't be considered fit
to enter decent mans house," said he,
crossing his legs with an arrogant bend of
the neck. 81 wouldn't knock and be re-
fused. I've been something of scamp
and great deal of fool know it as
well as anybody"
And you are sorrier for it than you are
willing any one should Think said |.
There is no use in being sorry for what
cannot be helped.''
Yes, there is-great use in it, Martin.
Repentance is the water which helps us to
wash clean again when we have been in
the mire. To pass over your errors with a
reckless and desperate air, as you are en-
deavoring to, is to add foolishness to
folly"
"Well, you are right, there" said Mar
tin, frankly, penetrated by the direct
truthfulness with which met him. 81
don't know whether l am exactly sorry,