The weekly Butte record., 1863-09-12
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The Old Clergyman's Story.

One afternoon, | was startled in my
study by hearing the sound of an axe
in the rear of the house. | was won
dering who could be there, disturbing
the almost Sabbath stiffness of the mid
summer day, when Maria, the house
maid, Came to inform me there was a
strange man at the woodpile and to re-
quest that should so and see who he
was.
looked from the window, and dis
coveted 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 a very bad hat.
There was something in his swagger-
ing attitude which thought l recogniz-
ed but it was some time before could
realize that in those beggarly habili-
ments | saw the son Of one Of the most
worthy and respected citizens in the
neighborhood. | stepped to the door.
Martin Lockwood" said |, ''Is it
you!'
Il suppose its me-" said he, striking
the axe into a log. II thought | would
cut little wood for You, by the way of
amusement
| made no answer, and he stood mo-
ment looking at anything except up
rolling the quidi in his cheek, and wipins
the sweat from beneath his hat brim-
with an evident attempt to keep up the
old staggering manner, while conscious
shame was fast mastering him.
Il guess you are a little astonished
at seeing me- he said after an awk-
ward pause, resuming his hold on the
axe handle and leaning on it.
Yes, Martin am a good deal as
tonishcd.'
I've way of astonishing felix's. l
astonish MYSELF a little. l hardly know
how came here, but here I am, if am
not welcome, I'll put eff again-the
world is wide-I am bound to live some
where ; man must live, you know"
He laughed at first, but his voice grew
hard and bitter, and there was look of
wlldness 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.
You 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 a haughtiness defiant of rags.
IF had thought yo come to see me,
Martin. should have welcomed You be-
fore. You have picked up new fashions
in Your travels. lam not used to visit
ors chat so chopping at the woodpile in
stead of knocking at the door. Sit
down I'll take your hat"
He sank slouchingly upon a chair ;
but instead Of giving me his hat, he
scaled it carelessly into one corner of
the room.
Il suppose it wouldn't be considered
fit to enter a decent mans house," said
he, crossing his legs with an arrogant
bend Of the neck. Il wouldn't knock
and be refused. I've been something
of a scamp and great deal of fool
| know ii as we'll 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"
"les there is-great use IN 1t, Mar
tin. Repentance is the water which
helps US to wash clean again when We
have been in the uire. To pass over
your errors with reckless and desper-
ate air, as YOU are endeavorlng to do, is
TO add foolishness to folly"
''Well, you are right there said
Martin, frankly, penetrated by the d.
rect ruthfuiness with which l met him.
n don't know whether | am exactly