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

the squire's vault to morrow night
and We were like to be on the parisi
before many months were over ou
heads. When | had come to this,
had come also to the stile leading
into the wood / would not Civ,
myself time for any more such fan
cies; so l put my best foot foremost
and soon was clear OF the wpod, ant
tramping along the raised path that
led to my fathers door.
"The old people were very low
that night, for they felt the mistress
loss all the more for their own troub
les. 'They say it was quite sudden,
Phil, my father said, as he cut the
cheese and passed my mug of beer
'Mr. Stark. the butler, was down IN
the village this afternoon, and ht
said she had only been i'll for three
days, and no one thought of danger
till an hour or two before she died
The squire would have sent off ther
for some grand doctor, but just as
the groom was starting, she died, all
in minute, as it were. 'She isn't
much changed, is she, Philip my
mother asked. / didn't half like
talking about her, but l made shift
to answer pretty quietly: .Oh, not
a bit. Except for her being so white
and still, you'd scarcely know she
was dead but I'm just tired out, SO
| think I'll be off to bef,' and / lef.
them together and climbed up tho
steep staircase TO my attic.
81 'caS tired enough, but couldn't
sleep. Even when / did doze Off a few
minutes, it was only into a confused
dream, in which / always saw that
ring. Now l was digging for it mad,
ly in huge heap of shayings; now
| was in church with Margaret, and
the parson would not read the mar
riage service for us till | put the
ring on her finger; and now | was
hurried, pressed down in the stiff
earth. but holding it tight. / got
up at last in the early dawn, and,
pushing my window open, leaned
out Tor breath of air. / thought il
was the close hot room that had OPP
pressed me, and / threw on my
clothes and went down to the river
for bath, but when | got there,
didn't care TO 60 into the water, and
sat down instead upon the hank
staring at the rushes for iull hour
didn't fight against my fancicS
now. The temptation had got nc
body and soul. All, well! | didn't
know then, as | do now, that it's The
first thoughts which do the harm
If man 0nce lets himself go on
thinking of what he ought to driv,
out of lis mind ut once, he's lost.
He can't Get rid of his ugly notion:
afterwards. When | walked away
from the river, | was changed man
hardened and reckless. The busy
little village looked dull enough will
the shop windows closed, and th'
people, each with some hit of blacl
about them. standing lettering ut tn,
street corners, watching for I'll,
funeral procession. My mother and
father went 10 the churchyard, but
had to be up Mt the Hall. 1t was :
very quiet, simple business. HheI
the old banker at Iillhury had been
buried .he year before, there had
been twice az many carriages and
plumes; but the squire had always
hated fuss and show, and he was toe
heavy-hearted now to think OF any.
thing but his own grief. His sister
was there, and my lady's brother
and one or two cousins, and these
with the doctor and parsou, and
some of the old servants, made the
whole party, except the little fair.
haired boy who held his fathers
hand when they went down into the
vault-in that same vault, Miss Hes
ter, in which your own mother was
laid but yesterday. You know
where it is in the churchyard, not ;
stones throw from the chsnc.l win
dow. Well, ct was all over, and the
heavy stone had been let fall again
and when the crowd scattered, there
was scarcely dry eye among them
"We went home hy-and-by, and the
shutters we're taken down, and father
and | sat down to our bench; but
somehow, neither of us were III tie
mood for work. He never did much
now, though he Liked to putter about
among his tools, and watch all thai
went on. To day, he soon put them
by, and stood leaning over the half
door, looking down the street, while
| p,aned and hammered, or sat idly
twirling the foot rule between my
fingers. 'Ab, lad, you've not much
heart for carpeDtering today my
father said at last, rs he turned his
head and caught sight of my listless
figure; but there'll be more need fol
work than ever there was, for we al
ways knew where to look Tor hell
before, and | d ubt the squire vii
not be much at the Hall now May
be mott | made answer, and then
got up and walked straight away &c
the lathe. | didn't want to talk OF
be talked to, for q strange savage
feeling had got hold of me, and
WAS half afraid of myself. SO u'
day wore on, and the evening came
and my mother looked into the work
shop, and babe me come to supper
When it was over father reached
down his pipe from the mantle shelf
He and / mostly had smoke togcth
er on the green in the twilight, ant
| saw that he was waiting for me
but did not intend to go out will
him tonight so spoke mp in dog
ged kind of way and said: Il prom
ised to get over to Kettlethorp, Il
take the order for that linin-press
there'll he time TO get there an'
back before dark May, nay, m,
lad,' father answered 'suIe there
no such haste Yes, there is,' ant
| spoke the more sharply, as l. saS
fathers wondering look. 'ft won
do to let job slip into Gleig's hands
for want ofiooking aftcrit ourselves
well, well : and the old man mad
1 no more objections, FOR | think tina
he saw that my mind was made W
t At the door, | turned to say: Don
t YOU sit up mother, ] may be late,
| happen to light on Tom Hill
e You amt going TO the public, Phil
D she asked anviously. Il can't .ell
T says /, and shut to The door, jus
: hearing fathers words; Let the IA
y alone, missus he'll come tono harm