Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1869-05-28
PARIS, MAINE. FRIDAY, MAY %, 1859.

you expand yourself. you might sell out
to Barnum and make q fortune travelling
with Tom Thumb, and take the old wo-
man along"
Stranger" said the rough great man,
and his whole face loomed up with min
gled expression of pain and pride, "Stran-
ger, spoke word here I didn't mean
to; a slightly word like. about my moth
er. l would give all the gold in my pock-
ct to bring her back but one hour to look
upon this country as it now is. She had
her cabin here when Chicager was no
where; here she raised her boys; she
couldn't give her boys learning. but she
taught us better things than books can
give-to be honest, truthful and industri-
ous. She taught US 10 be faithful and
true to stand by our friends and be gen.
erous to our enemy. It's thirty years.
stranger. since we dug her grave by the
lake side with our hands and with many
n tear and sob turned ourselves away
from tho cabin where we had been raised.
The Indians had killed our father long
before, and we'd nothing to keep u.s.
and 50 we went to seek our fortunes. My
brother he took to st. Louis. and married
there som'ers; and just went where the
wind blowcd. and when had scraped
money enough together. l cum back and
bought few acres Of land around my
mothers old cabin, for the place where
I'd laid her bones was sacred, like. Well
in the course of time it turned up right in
the middle of Chicagcr. couldn't stand
that, loved mother too well to let omni-
buses rattle over her grave, so cum back
about fifteen years ago and moved her
back to the burying ground; and then l
went back to Texas. and wrote to an
agent to sell my land. What cost few
dollars 10 begin on sold for over forty
thousand-if I'd kept it till now, 'twould
have been worth ten times that that's so.
| work hard, am the same rough custom
er, remember every day what my moth
cr taught me, never to drink or fight, wish
didn't swear or chew; but thcm's got
TO be sort OF second natur' like, and the
only thing that troubles me is my money
havnt got no wife and children. and I'm
going TO hunt up my brothers folks. Ii
his boys is clever and Industrious. ain't
ashamed of my big boots and old-fashioned
ways, and his gals is young women. not
ladies'; if they help their mother and
don't put on morn two frocks day, I'll
make them rich every one Of them.
Now gentlemen. 'taint often I'm led
TO tell on myself after this fashion, but
these old places where trapped when
was boy made me feel like child again
and felt like telling these youngsters
about the changes and chances fellow
may meet ia life. If he only tries to
make the most Of himself"
'But, boys" said he. turning to par
t. of young men, there's something bet
ter than money. Get education. Why.
boys, if had as much learning rs mon
ey, could be President in 1867, just as
e-a-s-y. Why, could buy up half the
North, and not miss it out of my pile.
But get learning; don't chew tobacco {;
don't take no liquor; don't swear. and
mind your mothers-that's the advice of
a real live Sucker; and if you mind what
say you may be men some day (and it
amt every fellar that wears goatee and
breeches that's man, by long ways.)
Follow out her COUNCILS never do n thing
that will make you ashamed to meet her
in heaven. Boys, never did bad thing
but heard my mothers voice reprovin'
me l never done good thing and made
a good move but seemed to hear her
say, that's right, Jack. and that has been
the best of all Nothing like mother,
boys; nothing like mother-thats So"
All this had passed while waiting to
wood. just out of Chicago. The great
man WAS swelling with emotion, called up
by the dark shadows of the past; his big
round frame heaved like billow upon
the ocean. Tears sprang to his deep-sct
but earnest eyes-they swelled to the
brim, and swan round asking to be let
fall to his mothers memory-tributes to
the past. But he choked them down, and
humming snatch of an old ballad he
thrust his hand down deep into his pock'
ct, walked to the end Of the car, pulled
the gigantic collar of his shaggy coat up
around his ears, buttoned it close and
leaned back against the window in ST.
ence.
The ears ratified on. What a man was
there--wllat a giant intellect, sleeping
buried away from light and usefulness by
a rubbish of prejudice, habit and custom
doing but half work for the want OF
culture.
A mute inglorious Milton. or rather
Webster, going about the world strug-
ling with his own soul, yet bound by the
chains of ignorance which precluded his
doing but moiety Of the good it lay In
his power to do.
All the way through the long, tedious
journey, he had ever been on the watah
to do good. He gave up his seat by the
fire to an Irish woman and her child ana
took one farther back soon young girl
seated herself by his side; as the night
hours wore on, and she nodded wearily,