The Hancock Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Ohio) 1857-1870, 1869-01-01

gone. ou IL miss her sOrely, In
thinking"
"Yes, indeed But somehow m,
wound was too fresh for more thai
those two words; and reaching
book that | had lent him from tn
mantleshelf, said: 81 can't tall
much about her yet, Philip. Shall
read to you now?'
The usual answer came: "Thanl
you, kindly and ] began.
Perhaps my reading was monoto
nous, for my thoughts would not fol
low the printed words, but wandered
far and wide. Be that as it might
when raised my head at the end O
half an hour, the old man was nod
ding. softly laid the book aside
and sat for few minutes watchin,
him and admiring the fine old head
with its long, silvery locks, and til,
strongly marked wrinkled features
softened by sleep, before / laid my
hand upon his sleeve. He started
and opened his eyes, exclaimiug -
"1'm sure / ask your But til,
rest of the sentence died upon hi.
lips, and he gazed with a sort of ter
ror at my ungloved hand, still resting
on his fustian jacket. "What P
where-where did it come from ?
he faltered out In thin, quavering
voice.
was startled too. l too, stared
at my hand. "Nhat was it Philip %
"The ring-that diamond ring will
the big emerald in the middle" {"
There were several on my finger
Two that had seen from my baby
hood on the dear hand now lying il
the grave, and which, on that very
morning that she died, she had giver
to me, bidding me wear them alway:
for her sake. The third-the dia
mOnd-she had rarely worn but il
had been her mothers, and once she
told me that tale hung by it. Be
meath the stones there was tiny loci
of hair, Gu. from her head when al
infant; and for the sake of that flax
en- curl, | had put it on among the
others.
"The diamong ring" said, draw
ING it off. 'Philip, do you know it?''
He held out his shaking hand, and
laid it IN his palm.
"Do you know it p / repeated ca
gerly. at was my grandmother s
once''
Slowly he turned it over, examin
ing it with strange, intent curiosi-
! ty, then he gave 1t back to me. "Do
L know 1t p he said, now first seem
ing to hear my question. 81 have
not set eyes on it Tor more than sixty
years /; but on my death bed, | shall
see that ring as plainly as i see il
now
"What can you mean Z" / exclaim-
ed impatiently. 81 don't understand >
"Miss Hester,'' and there was
something solemn in his look and
tone, "that ring had well nigh been
my ruin-ay, and my souls ruin too;
and yet land halt smile flashed sud
denly across his face )--''and yet it
was not my ruin, but my making ;
and if it hadn't been for that ring,
neither you nor the dear lady that's
just gone would have seen the light.
sat looking at him listening to
him. too much amazed for words.
He noticed my bcwildered, half.
frightened glances.
Miss Hester, do you care to hear
an old mans tale2 i have never
told it even to my daughter and i
don't suppose there's one living IN
the place even to guess at it now
They kept it dark for me, and it died
out long ago. But I'm willing to
tell it to you, for the sight of that
ring seems to open my heart
"Yes, tell me-pray tell me- /
said, impetuously.
He sat silent for few minutes,
with hands clasped upon his knees,
gazing into the fire, then he turned
his eyes on me and spoke slowly, as
though recalling gradually tho dis
tant past.
81 was turned twenty, but | still
lived at home with my father and
mother; not here in the village, but
in an old house half a mifc down the
Hillbury road. My father was car
Ipenter, and had brought me up to the
trade, and he let me manage things
pretty much my own way, though |
|, was but lad. l used to think the
reason he seldom crossed me was,
lest should get a fancy for roaming
for my mother had fretted sorely
when my brother Joshua listed foi
a soldier, and they had buried two
children in the Hillbury churchyard
Anyhow, it seemed as though they
could never make enough OF me.
was a likely young fellow, strong
and hearty, good hand at my work
and for climbing or wrestling, there
were few in the countryside could
beat me. All, well, they were blithe
days, when / stood bat in hand al
my wicket on the green, or strollcd
by theriver side with Margaret Leigh
would not have changed places
with a King then. We were to bt
married one day, Margaret and l, and
though the day was some way off
we were young and hopeful, and con
tent to wait. But don't know why
l should trouble you with all oul
foolish fancies and schemes-only
I'm 10th to 60 on to the dark tins
when the tide turned for turn it did
First of all, my mother fell sick, an(
most of her careful savings went tC
pay the doctor. All through on,
dreary winter, she hardly left he
bed; and when spring came, and sh'
was beginning to get about again
there came run of ill-luck to ou
trade. One of our best men left us
and took work under q carpente
who had just set up in llillbury, ant
} had drawn of many of our custom
ers. Then we made a venture in
stock of wood that turned out badly
and, worst of all, father cut his wrist
, and couldn't so much IS lift q tool
. and so we went downtown til
sometimes l. used to wonder hoy
Hong, if matters didn't mend, W
: might have food to eat or q roof I
cover us. And Margaret, too--poo
Margaret-her aunt died and abou
the time when we used to think W
| might have married, she went out
e service many mile away.
7 81 was lettering along the gree