The Hancock Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Ohio) 1857-1870, 1866-11-16

h"u 50 ionb perinltteu them TO en1Oy,I
and how sullenly they now struggle led
with its DEGREES. But something
worse than poverty was now disturb |
ing both their hearts. i....,
Tho unhappy old man had
brother who at this time died, leav.
ing an only son, who had for many
years abandoned his fathers house,
and of whom all tidings had long
been lost. 1t was thought by many
that he had died beyond tie seas;
and none doubted, that, living orl
dead, he had been disinherited by his
stern and unrelcnting parent. On
the day after The funeral, the. old man
produced his brothers will, by which
he became heir TO all his property,
except an annuity to, be paid the
natural heir, should he ever return.
Some pitied the prodigal son, who
had been 80 disinherited, some blam.
cd the father--some envied the good,
fortune Of those who had so i'll borne
University. But in a short time the
death, the will, and the disinherited,
were all forgotten, and the lost lands
being redeemed, peace, comfort, and
happiness were supposed again to be
iestored to the dwelling from which
they had SO long been banishcd u
"But IL was not so. Ifthe burrows
on the old mans face were deep be-
fore, when he had to toll from morn
ing to night, they seemed to have
sunk into more ghastlv trenches, now
that the goodness of Providence had
restored a gentle shelter to his de,
clining years. When seen wander.
ing throngh.his fields at even. tide, lie
looked not like the patriarch musing
TRANQUILITY on the works and ways OF
God; and when my eyes met his du,
ring divine service, which he now
again attended with scrupulous reg
ularity, | sometimes thought they
were suddenly averted in conscious
guilt, or in liypocritical devotion. l
scarcely knew i'll had any suspicious
against him in my mind or not; but
his high bald head, thin silver hair,
and countcnance with it's fine features
so Intelligent, had no longer the same
solemn expression which they once
possessed, and something dark and
hidden seemed now to belong to
them, which withstood his forced and
unnatural smile The son, who, in
the days of their former prosperity,
had been stained by no vice and who
during their harder lot, hal kept
himself aloo: from all his former
companions, now became dissolute
and prolligatc, nor did he meet with
= any reproof from n father whose
= heart would once Have burst asundeI
at one act of wickedness in his belov
cd child. .t....r.-J .. ..f ....-
"About three years after the death
!. of his father, the disinheritcd son re
! turned to his native native parish
r He had been a sailor on board va
> rious ships on foreign stations-but
: hearing by chance of his father &
> death, he came to claim his inheri.
I tance. Having heard, on his arrival
/ property, he came to me and told me
a that the night before he left his home
his father stood by his d-sidc, kiss
+, cd him, and said, that never NOR,
would he own such an uudutiful SON.
but that he forgavc him all his sin
at death would not defraud him o.
the pleasant fields that had so long
y belonged to his humble ancestors
' and hoped TO meet reconciled il
J heaven. "My uncle is q villain
u said he, flercely, "and l will cast an
u chor on the green bank where play
u ed when boy, even II l must frs
: bring his gray head to the scatIold 7
al accompanied him to the hous,
of his uncle. 1t was dreadftl visit
The family had just set down to theil
frugal midday meal; and the old man
though for some years he could have
had little heart to pray, had just lift
8 ed up his head to blessing Gu
= shadows, as we entered the door, fel
e upon the tablc--and turning his eyes
II he beheld before him on the floor tn
" man whom he tearlully hoped haC
y been buried in the sea, His face wa
u indeed, at that moment, most unlike
J. that OF prayer, but he still held ul
u his lean, shrivellod, troubling hand
~ Accused hypocrite, cried the fierc
= mariner, ''dost thou call down th
u blessing OF God on a meal won basel.
IS from the orphan? But 10! God, whom
u thou hast blasphemed, has sent m
u from the distant isles of the ocean
u to bring thy white head into til
- hanGman' hands, ......
=, "For moment all was silent
~ then a loud stiaed gasping was heard
. and she whom You saw y little Will
|, ago, rose shrieking from her seat
- and fell down on her knees at til
~ sailors feet. The terror Of that un
: forgiven crime, now first revealed {
~ her knowledge, struck her down t
"a the floor. she fixed her bloodles
~ face on his before whom she knclt-
: she spoke not a single word. Ther
% was sound in her convulsed throa
:, like the death.rattle. u forged th
! will, said the son, pdyancing toward
"a his cousin with firm step, my fatl
:, er could not--I alone am guilty
,, alone must die The wife soon re
y. covered the power of speech, but
- =, was SO unlike her usualvoice, that
, scarcely thought, at first, the soun,
n proceeded from her white quiverin,
|, lips, bAs you hope for mercy at th
,.,aat g,,,l~n,art Aa,, lat t;,a ALI ~,