The Jeffersonian. [volume] (Stroudsburg, Pa.) 1853-1911, 1867-08-08
I'D o w N HILL"
A LIFE PICTURE.

one OF our courts, and while conversing
with legal friend, l heard the name OF
John Anderson called
".There is hard case," remarked my
friend.
looked upon the man in the prisoners
dock. He was standing up, and he plead
guilty TO the crime of theft. He was a
tall man, but bent and iufirm, though not
old. His garb was torn, sparse and filthy
his face all bloated and bloodshot; his
hair matted with dirt, and his bowed form
quivering with delirium. Certainly I
never saw more pitiable object. Surely
that man was not born william. | moved
my place to obtain fairer view of his
face. He saw my movement and turned
his head. He gazed upon me single in
slant, and then, covering his face with his
hands, he sank powerless into his seat
"Good Godw I involuntarily ejacu-
lated. Will"
l had half spoken his name when he
quickly raised his head, and cast upon me
look of such imploring agony that my
tongue was tied at once. Then he COW
cred his face again. l asked my legal
companion if the prisoner had counsel.
| He said no. / then told him to do all in
his power for the old fellows's benefit, and
| would pay him. He promised, and l
left. | could not remain and see the man
tried. Tears came to my eyes as | gazed
upon him, and it was not until had
gained'the street and walked some dis
tance that | could breathe freely.
John Anderson! Alas! he was ashamed
to be known as his mothers son! That
was not his name but you shall know him
by no other. | shall now call him by the
name that now stands upon the records of
the court.
John Anderson was my school mate !;
and it was not many years ago-not over
twenty y that we left our academy togeth-
er, he to return to his home of wealthy
parents; to sit down in the dingy sane
tum of newspaper Office for few years,
aud then wander off across the ocean. l
was gone some four years, aud when | re-
turned l found John married man. His
father was dead, and had left his only son
a princely fortune.
"Ah c." he 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 all
birds that ever looked beautiful or sang
sweetly."
He was enthusiastic, but not mistaken,
for | found his wife all that he had said,
simply emitting the poetry. She was
truly one of the most beautiful women |
ever saw. And so good, too so loving
and so kind. Aye she so loved John
that she really loved all his friends. What
lucky fellow to find such wife And
what lucky woman to find such a hus-
band; for John Anderson was as hand
some as she. Tall, straight, manly, high
browed, with rich chestnut curls, and a
face as iaultlessly noble and beautiful as
ever artist copied. And he was good,
too; and kind, generous and true.
spent week with them: and | was
happy all the while. Johns mother lived
with them, 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 ac-
count of my adventures by sea and land
in foreign climes, and she kissed me be-
cause | loved her " darling"
did not see John again for four years.
L reached his home 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 Ellen's chair. |
knew at once that they were my friends
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 cloud concealed.
At length John came. His face was
flushed and his eyes looked infamed. He
grasped my hand with happy laug
called me "Old Fellow" " Old Dog"
said | must come and live with him, and
many other extravagant things. His wife
tried to hide her tears, while his mother
shook her head and said =
He'll sow these wild oats soon. My
darling never can be bad man"
"God grant it!' thought to myself;
and | know the same prayer was upon
Ellen's lips.
It was late when we retired, and We
might not have done so even then had not
John fallen asleep in the chair.
On the following morning walked out
with my friend. | told him Twas sorry
to see him as | saw him the night before.
Oh" said he with laugh, that
was nothing. Only little wine party.
We had glorious time. l wish you had
been there"
At first / thought would say no more;
but was it not my duty? knew his ma
ture better than he knew it himself. His
appetites and pleasures blinded his own
vision. [ knew how kind and generous
he was alas! too kind too generous!
John, could you have seen Ellen's
face last evening you would have trem-
bled. Cas you make her unhappy lie
stonned me with