The Sumter watchman. [volume] (Sumterville, S.C.) 1855-1881, 1871-06-21

IOIIueT udppy Wou3 ooV su0 .@
lucky dog. This is the broad philosophy
of our deductions. Those who live un'
welded need no sympathy; those who
die married are worthy of no envy, for
which of the two events is better no one
can possibly deter mine"
THE RIP VAN wINKLE OF THE
TALM MUD--sLEEPING SEVENT Y
SUMMERS.
The story of the Rabbi Coniah has
been reproduced for the Je;oish Msssen-
ger, and is chiefly remarkable for its
resemblance iu one or two particulars
to the world renowned story of Rip Van
Wiukle, which Washington Irving gave
to the world, and which has been re-
vived in the drama by Mr.. Joseph
Jefferson. The Rabbi was learned above
his peers, and many reverenced lin
for his wisdom and erudition. But he
perceived not the necessity of that
charity and forethought which should
induce individuals to make provision fol
those coming after them, and therefore
he received the stern lesson.
An old man was planting q carot
tree, and displayed heartiness which
seemed to indicate that he expected tc
enjoy the results of his labor. Coniah
regarded him with astonishmeut and g
certain degree of contempt; for it is a
tradition of the Talmud that carot
tree does not bear fruit till seventy
years after it has been planted.
"Do you expect to eat of the fruit Of
this tree ?" the Rabbi asked, with q
shrug of disdain.
"Rabbi," answered the old mau
meekly, but with dignity, "wheu was
little child this field abounded with
carob trees laden With fruit. My fathers
had planted them for me; l plant this
tree for my children"
Coniah turned away murmuriug
"For biz children. Blind, how blind
We are. We live in this world but
brief period, and yet presume to provide
for those that will come after US. They
must die as we'll as we. Our existence
was not given us merely for this world
Every man ought to consider his hea.
venly life, and forego all care or interest
about the few days that he and Others
will spend here. What is our lot, Oh
the lot of our children. is of little ac-
count. We are destined for heaven
aud that is enough"
While he was meditating in this
manner, Coniah lay down upon The
ground. Feeling the sensation of hun
ger, he drew forth from Ibis pocket
piece of bread, and ate, continuing hi
reflections. Presently he became dro"
sy, and fell asleep. He awoke not al
that day, nor during that night. Th'
day returned, and the night begur
again, and still he slept. Thus passed
many days and nights, during which h'
awoke not. A wall Of stone was erected
over him by a miracle, and shut hin
from the sight Of men.
Thus for years he lay ipcarcerated a
10 tomb. Generations passed away
and numerous events occurred to chang
the aspect of the world. Finally seveut.
years were accomplished, and the ston.
sepulchre disappeared. restoring conisl
to the light of day. He awoke as tn
sun ascended the meridian, and exclaim
ed:
"verily, I have slept long. 1t was
little before the dusk of evening whe'
I lay down, aud now the sun is midwa.
10 the sky"
BE arose and walked to the plac
where he had reproachcd the old MAJ
who planted the tree for posterity.-
Behold, it was fully grown, and bo
stood near to it eating Of its fruit
Coniah accosted him:
"My young friend, who planted tba
carob tree ?"
"Not l." replied the youth for it re
. quires many years for such tree {
r mature aud yield its fruit. Ny fathe
declared tc me that my graudfathe
planted it."
E Coniah heard this with a feeling
horror.
There can be NO mistake" said b
, to himself.
> "Here it is that I rebuked the ol
man, and there lay down and slept
= The tree bears fruit, end I have bee
sleeping for seventy years"
! Full Of anxiety, he directed h
footsteps toward the city where he 'hs
dwels. But he soon paused in sa
: bewildermeut. The old path was gon
. and the familiar trees aud Landmark
{ had disappeared. The houses had p'
on an unfamiliar appearance. Every
, thing around him was strange al
t new.
e 1T length he discovered the va
!. aud be came to tho city. A. multitut
swarmed in the streets. Coniah locke
sharply, but 10 face could he desc
that had ever been known 10 hin :
b Ouce be had host Of admirers; b
n DOW he was not Recognised BY any on
it For him Ras-no welcome, no word :
9 greeting. A terrible sense Of isolsti.
;. came over him. He vss aioae IN q
. midst of that crowd, as much 90 as
o bad been 10 the solitude Of Q desert,
o Bitter was tie suguish ofshat hour.
it A faint hope ooly remained 70 uitiga
70 the 6eresness Of bis despair.
u "No more," aid he to himself u
Is more have friends and sequaiutane!
Is Bat my family yet remains 70 ne. Wi
a tissa L NAV zek fnfi hnraa. and col