The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1865-12-06

his friend.
''This reminds me of my better days
it brings such strange things to my mem
ory!' muttered the old man.
"1s that all? [ thought there might
be something else necessary to complete
your happiness"
"Nothing
Nothing at all? Are you sure there
is nothing more?"
"Indeed, "a cloud passed over the old
mans face-othere is one thing / would
like to have mended little, but had no
idea of asking the favor of you
"Speak out, tel you, old man. I
knew there was something else.''
"My lodging is cherries and cold. 1
freeze these raw nights; and I amt sure
if three meals day, and the warmest
clothing will be sufficient to carry
happiness into that gloomy hole"
"What will you have, then?"
80, ask nothing, but the truth is, if
able lodging
"What would you fancy? Twill do no
harm to talk
81 am well aware that the only genuine
civilized way of living is to have house
Tof ones own--but that, of course, 1 am
not foolish enough to think Of
"But supposing you were to have a
! house what sort of one would you like?'
"If you mean just such house as l
; would like-why, I'd say some such a
, house as this of yours. Everything seems
, so comfortable heret A man ought to be
as happy as Adam in an Eden like this.
Nov I'll tell you what, old man. said
the enthusiastic merchant, 81 can't think
of turning myself out of doors, even for
the sake of philanthropy; but if you will
S let me live here, and have my own way a
1 little, I'll give this house to you to be
l your home as long as you live
Old Roger johnson opened his eyes
wider with wonder.
o cit shall be as if you we're my father,
said the eccentric Mr. Upton. "Every
J. thing l have shall be at your service. o,
r shall sit with me at the table, and enjo,
r three meals day, my baker, my tailor
my servants, are yours. Twill be wortl
half my fortune to have happy man il
! the house. What say you to that?'
e "Now you are mocking me- said the
!. old man, deeply troubled.
i $50 you thought at first; but I'll teacl
you that / was never more in earnest il
y my life.'
"But can never pay you
"You will pay me, I tell you, by being
v perfectly happy
,, |, cit is too much, too much
a "Not jot too much, old man. AM
take my word for it, it won't be long be
e: fore you will think of something else ne
@ cessary to complete your full bliss. Use
h by your eye that you have already tho
is of something else. Am not right?'
vi Indeed said the old man, letting fal
a tear; ~ can never think of being hap
is ply until 1 know whether my child Edit
Is still lives, or what has become of her..
nj "Ho, then, you have daughter?'
"I had a daughter-to know that
v have one, aud that she is still fair, an
Is good, and happy, would be worth NOR
1 than all the blessings you so lavishly be
ltI stow ON me; to know that is all ask Q
Heaven-then I would be content to die
/ "But how did you lose sight of you
le child2'
r; ooh, it would take long story to te
n you thatl The poor things mother mar
Tried me against the will of her family
l.
| was fortunate in my business, and in th
r, course of time, I was able to invite m
" wife's proud parents to my own house,an
II treat them as such people ought to b
,e treated Edith was our third child, an
ali the dearer because she came late to fl
y. the places of brother and sister who
n one after the other, had been taken fror
er our hearts, and laid in the grave. Whe
a she was thirteen years old, failure Of
large firm, in which my fortune and m
~ reputation were staked swept away ever
: thing l had earned and left me pennies
In the midst of my trouble my poor vii
4 died, and necessity compelled me to CON
,e NIT Edith to the care Of her grandparents
10, the sorrow of that timeP said the oil
IA man weeping again. "To forget it, an
retrieve my fallen fortune, made yoy
age to the East Indies. 1t would take a
might to tell what chances befel me, o
40 sea and land. Let all that pass. 1t
IA enough to say that after an absence {
|; twenty years, | returned with broke
: health, and poor as when | went abrcac
10 Then commenced search for my chile
but her grandparents had been dead #
20 many years-she had been thrown upo
~ the world I could find no one to te
A. mo what had become of her; no one ha
"A remembered her even
IL "And is it so necessary to your happ
at ~ ness that you should find her?' asked M
Upton. sConsider how changed she
a by this time, if indeed she still lives.
~ have thought Of that, sighed Roge
"but. o, she was the sweetest grill If
~ could but find her as left her, still
c- child, then my cup of happiness woul
be full
IN The merchant arose, smiling, nobl
a a browed, and radiant with the inspiratio
that filled him.
ny "Have faith!' he cried, "have faith, an
miracles may yet be performed. :. have
:, power to do good beyond any thing y
se. conceived Speak the word, and it sha
y; be done. Shall restore your child?
tie He looked and spoke like prophe
The old man was thrilled and awed. FL
h, lips moved with feeble murmur, and {
! the instant open few door at the me
ar- chants touch, and, in the full food
,lal ~