The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1872-07-02
Aunt Hampton's Last Will

Sunrise will come next;
N''1TII'|N " III 'VIIEO IIN.IU,
The shadows of night has passed away"

Such Il night. the WIND one moment
shrlIl ard whistling, the next restless
hopeless, piteous, almost human cry; the
rain beat furiously against the window
flash after flash of lightning followed by
crashing, rafting peals Of thunder; such
was the night without, and with Aunt
Hampton laying dying.
l drew nv chair involuntarily closer
to the bedside, as though | might find
protection in its unchosen occupant
How fast the tears came from my tor
tured heart as gazed on the kind old
i face, and knew it must soon be lost to
me forever; and oh bitterest cup of all
this soul, that had shown nothing but
kindness and tenderness, that had cared
for me in childhood, counseled and
guided me as grew into womanheod,
saved my eyes so many times from tears,
my feet from slippery places, this, my
best early benefactor, was going down
into the shadow of death, and | could
believe myself little better than her muir
derer.
For Hampton Hall was. not my birth
place. Ten years before Aunt Hampton
had come down to make us her annual
visit. | found out in years after that
these visits were made rather with an
eye to business than pleasure; for, like
many another, this WOMAN, possessed of
an independent fortune, and excellent bu-
siness faculties, had little patience O:
sympathy for people blessed with nei
ther; and although she was charitable to
the poor, shealways wondered how peo-
pie could be in that condition -is.
Aunt Hampton believed US poor as
job. Perhaps we were; according to
her idea of riches there was no doubt of
it; but the morning that waited with
tears stained checks for the old coach to
take me ont of it, had not found pow
erty disagreeable thing. The low,dn
gy kitchen, with its hemely surroundings
had never lacked the music Of ehildrens
laughter or the patter of darling little
feet ..- sHdl. ...l r. ...' f-
What more is riches? F..
| A was saying, Aunt Hampton's Wis
its were more toinvestigate matters than
for pleasure. My father was her nephew
and dearest kinsman. She was my
grand amt. In these days her sharp
epes watched every movement of the
family The fact that | wandered off
every morning, my cnly companion a
book, did not escape her notice, and
when l re-entered the farm house it
seemed sorrow greater than l could
| bear. .. 30 r.. . 4. vr:.
Distinctly 1 remembered every look
and word of the group that followed us
to the wicket to bid us goodbye. | hid
my own tears because so many eyes were
hull -.,. s
Softly mother whispered: 'It is so
hard, my child, TO let you CO."
But Aunt Hampton's quick ear caught
every word. sr ... .s-. -,r..
"Nonsenser' she exclaimed, as she
hurried me into the coach. "You'll
make the child home-sick before we get
lstartcd" - fr.a ... .-.
leaned forward, as the carriage rolled
on to catch one more glance. "A.
dear, dear mother" sobbed aloud,
"Tll come back with goodness, greatness
and riches, aud be blessing to you"
| could not hear the reply,for we were
beyond the reach of the voice; but l
know it was something kind and loving
How much | love them.
"a true. daughter Of Warren Hale"
said practical voice at my side; "al-
ways building without the least
foundation. :"
Il hope am like my father Ireplied
with some spirit. ''lIe is not rich, /
know; but riches are not anything. Be.
sides, how can he get rich teaching
school for forty dollars a month :" .rs
"Why does he teach for that p she
asked, and then added: EASY, always
SO easy 1--we no patience with such peo-
pie" aTe-
"He shall enjoy his ease one of these
days." | returned. ale shall live like a
prince, anG I'll maintain him in it,"
Reader, for ten years | kept that cas-
tie in the air; each day l added some
thing to its beauty and finish but scarce
ly had it reached perfection, when 10 it
suddenly quakea and quivered; with
trembling hands l tried to hold it, but it
tumbled confused mass, and with bow
ed head l wept over its ruins. taaa
& x K ...ts x
In the ten years that l lived at Hamp
ton Hall | did not visit the home of my
birth. Aunt Hampton had had "such a
time" getting me reconciled to my new
home that she never dared to trust me
away from it. For, indeed, how grim
and stately the place at first appeared to
me- Even the birds seemed to sing, if
they sang at all, funeral dirges. And
for weary days | mourned, and would
not be comforted In this Aunt Hamp-
ton showed her usual good sense. She
let ME alone, or when she did notice me,
it was very kindly. In time the birds
sang very much as they did at home +;
became contented ,and from being con
tented was finally happy.
| Aunt Hampton was very kind to me,
and 1 obeyed her in all things. She
placed me at an excellent school in the
neighboIhood, and improved every ad
vantage; and When, was TO possess her
entire fortune, if--how mucho power
there is in that little word-I would mar.
ry the nephew of her late husband, one
Jasper Hampton. -" eF #
In the nelghborhood of Hampton
Hall there were many poor, and from
flitte child l had accompanied Aunt
Hampton on her visits of charity among
them Then it was that ] loved this re
f ally good woman best. How the eye;
of bed-ridden, poverty stricken old peo
, pie would brighten at her coming How
! common in our walks were such greet
, ings as BLESS your kind heart, Mrs
1 Hampton, for the nice flannel" or, Lore
bless YOU, madam, for sending the coal
we've not been so comfortable wlnte
, for years"
What glory shone in the sweet fac
o of a schoolmdse when she said: 'lf
+ were not for you, good Aunt Hampton
I could not he here, and | would rathe
die than live Ignorant"