The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1866-11-01
THE WIDOWS SON.

IUUTUITg, UGdTIV JWl
years ago, when l was walking on a country
road, not many miles from one of the busiest
manufacturing towns of England. The snow
clouds through the night had dropped q thick
veil on wood and fell and on the distant moor
whose outlines were boldly defined against the
lcaden sky. / had been far from well, lately,
and the freshness Of the winters morning, and
the beauty Of the wintry scene, filed my heart
with unwOnted buQyancy and pleasure.
Suddenly the clear tone of the passing bell
fell upon my ear, and | saw that | was near
one of those pretty English church yards that
crown the summit of many a hill and in which
lie the rude forefathers of the hamlets beneath
them. And looking again, | saw little fr1ne-
raj procession slowly move up the snowy path,
and enter the low church porch. | mounted
the steep brae, and reached the churchyard,
just as the little procession was vending its
way to an open grave.
1t was an humble funeral only two mourn
ers followed the plain coffin, and they were
women,-One, an old woman with face that
showed few signs of anything but selfshness
the other, younger better looking, and with a
face of such agonizing woe that it haunted my
dreams for months. She was dressed very
simply and poorly, and the few pieces of rusty
Grape, added to the worn Sunday clothing
showed how deep must be the poverty that
could pay no better outward respect for the
dead, mourned at heart so truly. She made
no noisy demonstration of grief While the
solemn service was being read by the gray
haired minister, she kept her panied eyes fixed
on the coffin; and when they moved it into
its place, and the solemn words, ''ashes to ash.
es, dust to dust, = followed by the rattle of the
snowy earth upon the coffin lid were heard,
she closed her eyes with a c0nvulsve shudder
When the mOurners left the grave | stepped
forward and looking down, read on the coffin
lid the words,
MARK HOWARD, AGED %.
There was a man by my side, and to him l
turned and asked who was he that lay there
in the prime Of his youth" He was tall,
rough, working man. and [ was not little
surprised at the agitation on his face as he an
swered in q low, panied voice, Gle was the
only son of his mother, and she is widow"
| might well look surprised at the words and
the tone in which they were spoken. | sup
pose he saw the expression on my face, for he
continued
cay widow, and poor, too-yery poor
And he were her only son and hope in life.
God help her. said, ''hers is bitter
lot"
"Ay,' he continued, "ay, fine lad was
Mark Howard, sir, when first cast eyes on
him, just three years agone. And now what
is he sir,-what is he ?'
1--WE no right he continued, ''to stand by
his grave; Pm nowt Of his kith and kin but
but l thOwt | maun come and see him laid
where l brought him, sir"
''You need not look so scared like, sir !;
there's many a man does murder whose hand
is never red with his victims blood-an'
killed him. Yes, l killed him. Not that /
meant to harm thee lad; )" and he went closer
to the tast-flling grace. "No, no but | led
thee into temptation, an 1t was too strong for
thee, lad, too shong.'
81 have no right to ask you such question:
| said, but your words have made Il deep i'm
preston upon my mind. Why do you bring
this serious charge against yourself?'
you ask me how came to kill the wild
owls son. Listen, sir. I think to tell YOU,
m heart he I
on Mark Howard until the lad came to my side
in the factory AVA yOnder, three years ago,
this Christmas tide,-you see l am a weaver
far AVA, where the black clouds lie banked, =
and where l first saw him, he were as fine and
frank a lad as cod be, and as free from vice
and shame as yon untrodden snow. | were
pleased VII the lad, and took kindly to him.
Likely might be rough and short at times
but | really liked him; and made him my com
panion. He soon told me his life's stOry-how
he were tatherless and an only child ; an how
that, God willing, he meant to work for his
mother, and take her frae her poor home into
better, and may be, make a lady of her, yet.
l think, sir, nay, l know, that on the day he
told me a. that, stayed AVA frae the public
house, and kept him AVA frae it, too.
Gle lived WI me-Mark did-much as
Younger brother, for l have neither wife MOI
weans. What did, he did. And many an eve
ming, when haze spent long hours at the beer
shop, he has been at my side.
mot that l were ever drunkaTd, sir. Nay
nay; but l drank deep, as many of us do, sir
deeply and steadily. l were fond of going tC
the club, where we talk politics, and make
speeches and drink-fond of going to benevo
lent and harmonic meetings, where we drink
too. We can do little, and have little dom foI
us without drink, sir. l almost wonder they
don't give us drink in the church and chapel
And where l went, went Mark, also.
Il saw no great harm in it.-God help me
but the time came when grew uneasy. Times
the lad would come home wi just d little too
much. and although he were sorry enoW WheI
morning came, it did not prevent its happen
ing again and again. You see, sir, he were
hght-hearted, clever lad, but not with thu
strongest head and mind, while l were older
more experienced, and had seen too much o
lie, to let any one, or anything overmaster me
And when the publicans found that the lat
could sing good song, and tell good tale
they were glad enow to encourage him AM
when saw his face grow bloated and his han,
unsteady and When heard him say one day
crying the while, that he had sent no money t
his own mother for many long dav past.
knew the lad were going bad.
Il tried all could to wean him frae II.
tried mony times and mony ways but he ius
went on frae bad 10 worse. And you wouidn
ha' known the tair-haired fresh Mark Howar
that come to me, in the stout, bloated man h
were at twenty-one years ovid.
wen, sir, We're in my room one evening
Just year tgo, thinking may be, of the lad
LOT since he had gone bad had kept AVA fra
the Puohc house-whenI heard low knock {
the door, and a thin, pale woman came in an
crossed to the fire :
~ , were a bitter night, sir, and she iu
sto0u oy me fire and held out her thin hand
a. tHoug u sne mad TO thaw her voice afore 81
coz speak and then She turned to me al
SAID, 1 ma COON for my lad, John Arnott,
for my son, Mark Howard - ~ - ~
And dared ma say as Cain did, Am Il
midst, in came the lad. - > - :
80, ir,it were pitiful scene, to see the w
ow put back the thick, tangled hair and To-
into the moist eyes and bloated face of her :,
lad as be bad - af4 bs NJ nd 'ite OF