Weekly Trinity journal., 1865-12-09
NUMBER As.
John Oakheart and Son.

John Oakheart and Son are Baltic merchants.
Young John entered his fathers Office as clerk,
at sixty pounds year, of which he paid bis
mother forty for his board lodging and washing,
and clothed himself with the odd twenty. Do
not imagine that Mr.. Oakheart's establishment
required this assistance. The old gentleman de-
sired to make his son feel independent-he was a
man, he earned his own livelihood, and he should
feel that he supported himself. At twenty-five
wears Of age young 0akheart marries, receiving
with his wife a moderate sum of money
John wants to purchase n share in his fathers
business they cannot come to terms He can
make a better bargain with rival house in the
trade The old man hesitates he likes the
sound of John Oakheart and Son but business is
business. Had his married penniless girl,
the father would have given him what he now
refuses to sell; but now business is business
and as a calculation, he can't do it. So young
John became chief partner in rival firm to that
which must one day be his, and trades against
the old man, whose only aim is to lay up wealth
for his son.
Every day at four o'clock, leaning against
particular corner on Change, stands the elder
merchant his hands deeply sunk into his dogs
cared pockets. young city man approaches;
they exchange quiet, careless nod
"Feel inclined to discount for l 200 at long
date?'
"What security?' asked old John.
Turkish, '54.''
ANY names?''
"My own only, it is private matter and has
nothing to do with our firm: replies the young
man. ~ will give four per cent
Il should want more than that as money
goes-say 5-S.
'.Thc brokers only ask l-2,' replies the
young man.
s.Then give it." And they separate with M
Indifferent nod.
That was father and son.
Every Sunday young John and his wife dine at
Russell Square in the same house where old
Oallheart has lived for thirty years. His name
has been cleaned out of the brass plate on the
door This house young John still looks upon,
and speaks of it as his home. All the associa-
tions of his childhood there-every piece of
furniture is old friend-every object is sacred
to his eyes, from his own picture, taken at four
years old, with its chubby face and fat legs, TO
the smoke-dried print of General Abercrombie.
They form the architecture OF that temple OF his
heart-his home.
After dinner the ladies have retired The
crimson curtains comfortably closed. The
cracking fire glows with satisfaction. and old
John pushes the bottle across to his son. for if
old John has weakness, it is for tawney port
''Jack, my boy says he "what do you want
with 200 pounds
"Wcll SIR replies young John, '.there is n
piece of ground next to my villa at Brixton. and
they threaten TO build upon tiff they do they
will spoil our view. Frances, meaning his wife,
has often begged me to buy it, and inclose it in
our garden. Next Wednesday is her birthday,
and | wish to CRAFTY her with surprise but |
have rcconsidered the matter-I cannot afford it
SO have given it up.
''Quite right. jack, responded the old man,
''it would have been piece of extravaganza"
and the subject drops.
Next Wednesday, being Frances birthday, the
old couple dine with the young folks. Just be-
fore dinner. old John takes his daughter-in-law
aside and places in her hands parchment-itis is
the title to the plot Of ground she coveted. He
stops her thanks with kiss and hurries away.
Ere the ladies retire. Frances finds time to
whisper the secret to her husband And the
father and son are alone. Watch the old mans
ewes fixed on the fire. for he has detected this
piece of aiIectionate treachcry and is almost
ashamed of his act, because he does not know
how TO receive his sons thanks. For a few
moments deep, gentle feeling broodS upon tfe
Young mans heart; he has words-it is a
PRAYER syabelcd in emotions that makes his lips
tremble; he lays his hand upon his father
arm and their eyes meet.
''Tut Jack, sir pooh sir, it must all come
to you some day-God bless you, my boy. and
make you as happy at my age as am now"
In silence the souls of those men embrace.
But who is that seraph that gathers them be-
Meath her outspread angel wings? | have seen
her at the fresde nuttering like a dove from
bosom to bosom. I have seen her linking dis
tan. hearts, parted by the whole world she is the
good genius of the Anglo Saxon family-and
her name is Home.