Ashtabula weekly telegraph. [volume] (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1853-1873, 1870-09-10
The Old Cartman.

have mlnd to tell you little story
"a brief yet true 1ne.
About five years ago John Ainsley,
or Pap Ainsley," as no was Familiarity
called, was the owner of a handcart,
and earned living by conveying mis-
crlsaneous packages from one part of
the town to the other, and receiving
therefor the sum of fifty cents per load.
When not employed, he could always be
foand on the corner of Montgomery and
California streets. His hair and beard
were quite gray, and his limbs feeble /;
and as he could not shove rs heavy
load through the deep sand or up the
steep grade above HIN as the stalwart
Teuton on the opposite corner, thereby
losing many job and many a dollar,
and the light loads in the neighborhood
fell to his lot. and kind. hearted men not
unfrequently travelled square or two
out Of their way to give an easy job to
old Pap Ainsley.
Four years ago last September, hav-
ing two or three dozed volumes to trans
fer to my lodgings, gave Pap Ainsley
the task of transportation. Arriving at
my room Just as he had denoSited the
last armful on the table, and observing
that the old man looked fatigued after
climbing three Fights of stairs two or
three times, invited him to take glass
of brandv-a bottle of which usually
kept in my room for medical and sopori6c
purposes. Although grateful for the in
vitation, he politely declined. l was as
tonished.
ado you never drink ?" said I.
every Seldom" he replied, dropping
into a chair a, my request, and wiping
the nrespiration from his forehead.
"Weil. if you drink at ALL" I insisted,
"you will not find as fair an excuse in
the next twelve month for indulging, for
you appear fatigued and scarcely able to
stand"
''To be frank" said the old man, w do
not drink now. Ihave not tasted intoXi-
eating liquors for fifteen year-snce."
"S;nce when ?" I inquired thought
lesslv, observing his hesitation.
The old man told me sixteen years ago
he was a well-tn,do farmer near Syracuse,
New York. He had one child, a daugh-
ter, and while attending boarding
school in that city, then girl of sixteen
years of age, shc formed an attachment
Tor young physician. Acquain'ing her
father with the circumstances, he fatty
refused his consent to a union with q
man he had never seen, and removed her
from school, sent note to the young
man with somewhat pointed information
that his presence in the neighborhood Of
the Ainsley farm would not meet with
favor.
| The rcader,of course, surmises the re-
sult, for such proceeding could have
but one result. Tn less than a month
there was an elopement. The father
loaded his double-barreled shot gun and
swore vengeance, but, failing to find the
figitives. he took to the bottle. His
good wife implored him not to give way
to dispair. and he accused her of en-.
courPging the elopoment.
In three months his wife died and A.
the expiration of a year. when the young
people returned TO Syracuse from Com
necticnt. where they had remained with
the parents of the husband, they learned
that the old man had squaudered his
money and was almost destitute. learn
ing of their arrival, Ainsley drank him
self into frenzy, and proceeded to the
hotel where they were stopping, attack
ed the hssbaad, wounded him in the
arm by pistol shot, and attempted to
take the life of his daughter, who hap.
PLY escaped uninjured through the in
terposition of persons brought to the
spot by the report of the pistol.
Ainsley was awested, tried and ac,
Quilted on the plea of insanity. The
daughter and her husband returned to
Connecticut, since which time the father
had not heard from them. He was sent
to the lunatic asylum, from which he
was dismissed after remaining six months.
In 1851 he came to California. He had
followed mining for two years, but his
strength was unequal to the pursuit, and
returned to the city, purchased hand
cart, and-the rest is known.
"Since ther," concluded the old man,
as he bowed his face in agony, ~ have
not tasted liquor, nor have 1 seen my
child"
regretted that / had been so inquisi
tive, and expressed to the sufferer the
sympathy ] really felt for him. After
that seldom went past the corner with
out looking for Pap Ainsiey. and never
saw him but to think Of the sad story he
had told me.
One chilly, drizzly day in December