Eaton weekly Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1866-1875, 1871-12-28
Where does Burden live ?" 1 in

quired.
This is more than know" replied
Fielding; although we have been on
friendly terms for so many years, he
has never told me his address. He has
all his letters sent to his music pub
lisher's. I think he resides somewhere
in Westminster"
"And this boy Charon, as he calls him
is he his son 7''
"That 1 can't say this is the first
ime have either seen or heard of the
oung gentleman"
Burden must have made money!"
Undoubtedly. His songs are always
successful, added to which he is a good
man of business, and retains right in
all he does. Then, again, he is so care
full, almost too careful, with his money.
So l thiEk there can be little doubt
about his being well off,
"Do you know his family?
"No; l have questioned him good
deal lately on that point, for could see
that he was breaking up, but he would
never answer. He seems to have a
morbid fear of poverty"
Our conversation was interrupted at
this point by our young guide stopping
at small, dirty-looking house. Draw
ing whistle from his pocket, he blew
on the grating over the area. These
signals had the desired effect of bring
ing an old, withered crone to the street
door, who was, without exception, the
ugliest specimen of humanity 1 ever
beheld. In one hand she held thin,
looking candle, which she
shaded from the wind in a such a man.
ner as to throw its light fully upon her
own hideous features. She placed her.
self in the doorway SO that we could
not pass, and glared at US with her pale,
filmy eyes, and murmured and moaned
in terrible manner.
"Don't mind old Sycorax," said the
boy "she won't hurt because she
can't; she would if she could"
AS he spoke he showed the woman on
one side and led the way up stairs into
small room, the walls of which were
entirely covered with books. On low
couch opposite small fire, lay Arthur
Burden, his thin, white hand working
nervousIy with the coverlet, his eyes
closed, and his lips moving slowly as he
murmured the lines of a love song.
The noise of our entering caused him
to start, and turning round with faint
smile, he held out his hand to Fielding,
saying:
"Well Fielding, old boy, 'the anchor
is weighed but you are not alone"
ooh, yes ; see. How are you, old
fellow ~ said Burden; but I saw by his
manner that he was displeased at my
being there, so, making some excuse,
to leave the room.
:. "Don't go, old fellow" said Burden.
" confess 1 did not want you at first,
but now you have come, would rather
you stay. You and have always been
friends, SO you may as we'll see the end;
besides, you might do me favor"
thing could do for him Iwould dowith
pleasure.
"Now let me see what can do," said
Fielding, feeling his pulse.
~ can tell you the exact amount"
replied Burden, with a faint smile;
" You can do-nothing."
1 looked in my friends face and saw
that Burden was right.
"You see 1 know what is coming-1
have felt it creeping on these six months
or more. was certain nothing could
stop it, and, as you see, was right. 1
have no fear of death-the only regret
I have is for poor little Charon there"
SIS he your son 2"
"No; I found him shivering on
doorstep some eleven years ago. l don't
think he could have been much more
than eighteen months old. L had just
lost my dog at the time, and felt lonely,
and he, poor little wretch, looked so
lonely too, that it struck up sort of
sympathy between us, and I brought
him home"
I" But why on earth did you call him
Charon ?"
because he was son of Erebus and
Nox, at least he was found in the night,
and 1 don't know who his parents
were? ?"
"What do you want us to do for this
boy2"
that paper. Thanks. This is my will,
whereby leave Charon property to over
the amount of five thousand pounds. 1
want you fellows to become executors,
if you will, and see that the little imp is
cared for. You will? 1 thank you;
fill in the names and will sign. There,
thank goodness that is over. You can
alter his name when 1 am gone to any
thing you like. You must take care of
him for my sake"
"Have you no relations 2" we asked.
"NoneI You have often asked me
for my history, Fielding, and now that
I am SO near my end you shall have it.
4NOW NOh ooOP AAOj OAA ASiAO" J l.
what you would say must not excite
myself to talk much. You see 1 am
almost as good doctor as you are, but
1 feel that l cannot last another day,
and as few hours cannot make much
difference, 1 prefer dying my own way;
1 may as we'll keep my mind employed
as not, SO sit, old fellows, and listen to
what no one has heard but yourselves"
We took our seats on each side of the
couch, and Burden commenced his
history.
Six and twenty years ago was clerk
in a merchants Office. 1 can't say 1
liked the business, but stuck to it and
got on, for 1 loved my masters daugh-
ter, and hoped by hard work one day
to be able to make her mine. I was an
orphan with neither kith or kin to look
after me, but the love 1 bore Milly kept
me quiet and Industrious. 1 rose step
by step in the Office, and Mr.. Bruce, the
merchant, was never tired of sounding
my praise.
All went on happily until he discoV-
cred that 1 loved his daughter, and
then his passion knew no bounds. l
need not enter into the particulars. l
was turned from his house, but not alone,
for Milly and 1 had been secretly mar
ried three months before.