The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1866-10-30
down HILL

with legal friend | heard the nar1e o.
John Anderson called.
There is a hard case" remarked my
friend
| I looked upon the man in the prisoner
dock. He vas. standing up, and plead
guilty to the crime 6f theft. He was q
tall man, but bent and infrm, though not
old. His garb was, torn, sparse, and sithy
/ his face all bloated and bloodshot; his hair
matted with dirt; and his bowed form
quiyering with deArium. Certainly l new
er saw a more pitIable object. Surely that
man was not born villain; I moved my
place TO obtain fairer view of his face
He saw my movement and turned his
head. He gazed upon me a single instant,
and then, covering his face with his hands;
he sank powerless into Lis seat.
Good God! !" l involnntarily calculated,
starting forward. "Wil-"
I had half spoken his name when he
quickly raised his head and cast upon me
ioot of such implorng agony that my
tongue was tied at once. Then he covered
his face again. | asked my legal conpan-
ion if the prisoner had counsel. He said
no. | then told him 20 do all in his power
for the poor fellows benefit and l would
pay bin. He promised, and | left.
could not remain ard see that man tried.
Tears came TO my eyes as l gazed upon
him, and it was not until | had gained the
street and walked some distance that ]
could breathe freely.
John Anderson Alas +. be was ashamed
to be known az his mothers son! That
was not his name; but you shall know him
BY no other. | will now call him by the
name that stands upon the records Of the
court.
John Anderson was my school-mate; ;and
1t was not many years ago-not over TWEEN
ty that We left our academy together, be
to return to the home of wealthy parents
| to sit down in the dingy sanctum of a
newspaper office for few years, and then
wander across the ocean. l was gone some
four years, aad when l returned | found
John married man. His father was
dead and had left his only son a princeIy
| fortune.
"Ah, c." be said to me, as he
met me at the railway station, "you shall
see what bird have Gagged My Ellen
is lark-a robin-a very princess of al
birds that ever looked beautiful or sang
sweetly."
He was enthusiastic, but not mistaken
for | found his wife all he had said, simply
omitting the poetry. She was truly one
If the most beautiful women | ever saw
And SO good, tee--so loving and kind
Aye-she SO loved John that she really
toyed all his friends. What lucky fellow
to fad such a wife. And what lucky
woman 70 find sCch husband; fer John
Anderson was as handsome as she Tall
straight mably, high-browed, with rich
chestnut curls, and a face as faultlessly
noble and beautiful as ever artist copied
And he was good, too; and kind, generous
and true.
/ spent a week with them, and [ was
happy all the while. Johns mother lived
with them-a fine old lady as ever breathed
and making herself constant JOY and pride
IN doating upon her Darling Boy" as she
always called him. | gave her an account
of my adventures by sea and land in for
eign climes, and she kissed me because ]
loved her darling.
1 did not see John again for four years
reached his house in the evening. He
was not in, but his wife and mother were
there to receive me, and two curly headed
boys were at play about Elen's chair: I
knew at once that they were NY friend
children. Everything seemed pleasant
until the little ones were abed and asleep,
and then | could see that Ellen became
troubled. She tried to hide it. but face
SO used to the sunshine Of smiles could not
wear a cloud concealed.
AT length John came. His face was
flushed, and his eyes looked infamed. He
grasped my hand with a happy laugh
called me @Old Fellow" sold Dog''-said
| must come and live with him, and many
other extrayagant things His wife tried
to hide her tears, while his mother shook
her head and said
Hell SOW these wild oats soon. Ny
darling never can be a bad man"
g9God grant it ]" I thought to myself;
and | know the same prayer was upon
Ellen's lips.
1t was late when we retired, and We
might not have done so even then had not
John fallen asleep in his chair.
On the following morning l walked out
with my friend. l told him was sorry to
see him as | saw him the night before.
"Oh," said he, with a laugh, "that was
nothing. Only little wine-party. We
had a glorious time. / wish you had been
there"
At first I thought I would say no more;
but was it not my dutyf knew his na-
ture better than he knew it himself. His