The Winchester journal. [volume] (Winchester, Ind.) 18??-1920, 1870-06-09


would have considered we were but
moderate. Things went on in this
way till we got near Stafford; by this
time we were singing and shouting,
and what few people we passed on the
road stood to stare as the four greys
bounded along, bearing such loud
noise.
"The evening was coming on, and
fog was fast settling on field and
river, so that we could not see far be
fore us, when i'm turning corner of
the road, ] don't know how il hap
peneJ, but I always think young Tai
bot was reaching to get the rcins, rs
he asked me many times to drive;
but be that as it may, saw a man in
front of us with two children, the
three noises swer"ed, there was a
loud shrek, the coach seemed to jump
over an impediment, and then the
frightened horses seemed to fly for
very life. We might have got into
town safely, but just in our way was
n narrow old bridge, and there the
road curved a little. | had lost all
power by this time over the horses,
aud in turning over the bridge, down
the coach came with crash.
"When | came to myself, l found
the night had gone, and it was noon
next day; was i'm bed, and the first
face l saw was that of my wife, for
we lived near there then. She looked
anxious, and / could see the marks of
tears on her face. "What's the mat
ter?" l cried, and tried to leap out of
bed; but | was held down. and gently
told what had happened-how the
horses had taken fright and overturned
/ the coach.
"There was not so much damage
done as might have been expected;
young Talbot had gone on home with
broken arm; the rest Of the passen-
gers had proceeded with coach, sha-
ken and bruised, but with no bones
broken. But there was something
more / wished to know-who was
that | saw ia the road with two chill
dren? whose shrek l had heard, and
still could hear ringing in my ears;
that news they tried To put off till an
determined to know. And / soon
knew too much. 1t seemed man,
with whom l was well acquainted,
had been taking his family walk in
the cool of the evening. He was
man respected by all who knew him.
And in q moment we were upon him
as we turned the road, and giving
him only time TO scream, he lay in
the dust-bruised-bl bleeding dead,
at was but the work of minute
to dress and hasten downstairs, de-
termined to see the family of the poor
man. His cottage was not far from
my home. and l was soon there; but
what sight! The blinds were drawn
down in every window, but the bright
sun was shining outside, and the early
flowers were stubbing the garden
which led up TO the door. / entered
the house. There, hushed into still
ness by so great "a calamity, were the
six children whom l had defrauded Of
parent. AS / entered, each eye was
turned upon me; they looked more in
sorrow than in angry, but their wan
cheeks bIanched 10y sudden sorrow,
made the strong man quail.
"In the chamber above, the dead
man lay, calm and white; he was
washed and layed out ready for the
coroner's duty. His wife sat upon a
chair by the bedside weeping and
rocking herself backwards and for
wards; all you could hear were her
sobs, and now and then, John, NY
poor JOhnv And / had been the
cause of all this; had been sober-but
drink. that cursed drink.
81 was not at the coroner's inquest,
for that and many months went by
before / knew anything, or any one;
summer had mellowed into autumn,
and the SHOWS of winter had found me
insensible to anything going on in the
world / had received severe blow !
on the head i'm the overturning of the |
coach, and that. with the great guam !
tity of rum to one who drank but lit
tie, added TO the self-cOndemnation |
which L heaped upon myself when
saw the mourner ard her helpless lit
tie ones, had been too much for my |
brain, But how had got out of my
bed after such a severe fall? Why by |
villa strong determined will-wh hich |
would almost in such circumstances |
trample upon impossibilities. But one
had carefully tended me during that |
long time, and often had she my /
wife) TO bear with me, when in the /
silent watches of the night, l had 4
heaped curse upon curse upon my own
head for the wrong had done. But /
no one had heard me but her; she had /
carefully guarded me, so that no one
should know my secret.
When I come once more into the
air, with halting gait and hair prema-
ture!y grey, she it was whose arm up
held me; it was her voice who sung
TO me and cheered me, and-altbough
another had occupied my place upon
the Liverpool coach-she it was who
read the story Of the ravens who fed
the forsaken prophet; and the glorious
Sermon on the Mount.
But she had worked too hard, and