The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1865-02-10

cno' 20 no, nos iois arc Inose properly accHmula-
tons ~
ALL"
"Then his death is not regarded as public
NO indeed, sirt II is considered public
benefit" - L5 2 ~
"How so?"
SHE hasa couple of sons and a couple of
sons-in-law, who will scatter much faster than
he saved. The moment they come in possess
sion of his estate it will be divided, and lots
OF ground, which ought to have been improv-
ed years ago, will be sold and covered with
handsome buildings, thus giving trade and in
dustry new impulse. Why, sir, he has been
dead weight on our town for years; growing
richer and richer through other peoples en-
terprise and yet not adding a building
himself in any way serving the common
good"
II thought" said 1, sfrom the long array Of
carriages, that death had taken, in this in
stance, a valuable aud now lamented citizen"
d" Mere ostentation, sir. But nobody Is de-
ceived. There are plenty of idle people who
are pleased to ride in funeral carriages. Old
Ellis will be put away with grand flourish;
but that will be the last of him. The black
will do all the mourning, STRIP
-"But, surely" said /, 'his children are
not without natural affectionl You do not
mean to say that there's only semblance of
sorroW?" tfAsfG as sNfs 8
at is my opinion, sir, that they are glad in
their hearts. why notq he stood hard and
unyielding as iron, between them and the
wealth they desired to possess. He was cold,
sour-tempered and repulsive: crushing out, by
his manner aud conduct, all natural affection,
They had too much policy to quarrel with him
of late; though the time was when hot words
were said to pass between them"
"fhere are no CLEANS of light in your pic
ture?n said l. ~
Il copy from nature, and can only give what
l see," he answered. "There are deep valleys
where the sunlight never comes, as well as
golden-tinted landscapes" s. haA
l see another funeral" said I, looking to-
wards q distant part of the cemetery. "There
are but two carriages; yet / see long line of
mourners on foot Do you know who they
are buryingT" 7ssa ,gso7 : ma >
"Yes." sA fgan91 l7raeat
"Not rich 1man?' 'D
"No," i-
g "There is no need of asking what he has
left. 1t is the burial of a poor man. ssa
'sYes, poor man, in this worlds goods:
but, so far as his means went, he was prince
ly in his muni6cence. His death, sir, is put-
lie loss" 1E ny -t+sl
The mans face frightened as he spoke.
"You knew him."
"Yes sir, knew him well. He was a rope
maker, working ten hours every day, and
earning just nine dollars week. But these
nine dollars seemed an inexhaustibe fund for
good. lie had no wife and children of his
own to love and care for. They went, years
ago, to the blessed land, where he is now fol.
lowing them. So, after supplying his own
humble need, The ropemaker had five dollars
every week left over for investment. He did
not put this in the Savings Bank, nor buy
IumOle-uoWn houses iOr Lne poor to i've in at
the rate of fifty per cent on their cost; nor
take up barren lots to hold for an advance in
price, consequent on neighboring improve
ments. No! his Investments were made on
different spirit, as you shall see.n
"First, he paid regularly, every week. to
poor woman who had two children to support.
and who could not leave them to 90 ont to
work in families, the sum of three dollars. as
teacher of little boys and girls, whose parents
were unable to send them to school. Two
hours in the morning, and two hours in the
afternoon, these poor children received in
struction. He was their benefactor and hers
also; for it was one of his sayings that we
must make the right hand help the.left His
means of doing good were small, and 50 he
made them go as far as possible" E
"He was noble fellow!' said I. in adm;ra.
tion of this poor ropemaker
"Tom Peters--yes; there was fine stuff IN
his fine composition If his hands were DARK
and bony, aud if his clothes did smell Of pitch
and rosin."
"He has left tender and fragrant memo
ries" ~
sHe has, sir. That long line of funeral at
tendants are true mourDers., There is 40
sham there"
Sand what else did lie do with his money!"
asked, growing interested in the ropemaksr.
He had two dollars week still left for dispn-
sation." a4na av
Eyes. Let me see! For one thing he paid
boy half dollar per week, to read to a
poor blind woman; and in order that this rea-
ding might not be given TO single pair of
ears alone, he took care to have the fact
known, that as many as chose might come
and listen. The consequence was. that more
than dozen persons met, every evening. in
the blind woman's room to hear what was
read. This suggested to Tom the way in
which another halt might be usefully invested.
The men in the ropewak were mostly in the
habit of spending their evenings at tayerns.
Tom found another lad, who was a tolerable
good reader, and paid him half dollar week.
ly to read aloud two hours each evening. fer
such of his fellow workmen as he could in
duce to assemble for the purpose. He began