Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1872-05-02


sale of his uncle's various gifts; but this
store had been spent to the last kreut-
ger, and for the last two days he had
been starving. Another year, he said,
would see him through the university,
and fit him for profession, and he i'm
plored me to give him some copying to
do, or assist him in some other way to
make little money. ado it." he
urged, "for my uncle Herman's sake.n
l was, indeed, most willing to befriend
him for the sake of my Meta, his
mother, my own poor early love; so he
came to live with us, and he and Franz
| attended lectures together.
Jacob never forgave me for harbor-
| ing the lad, whom he hated, as bad men
always will hate the injured; he had
kept up the semblance of neighborli-
ness until then, but at that period our
final rupture took place. Gustel got on
well he is now pfarrer in Ziegel-
hansen, useful and respected.
Jacobs strange curse is haunting me
to-day. l have but just returned from
his funeral, and ere l sleep must con-
clude this memoir. Perhaps when the
last word is written | may be able to
forget.
Jacobs end came very suddenly. 1
fear me his son was no gentle nurse dur
ing the one week of his illness.
| A vast concourse of his townsmen
helped to lay Jacob in his grave beneath
the row of yew-trees called the seven
sisters, in our cemetery outside the
Friedrich's Thor. II is there the great
men of Gottingen all lie, each in his
narrow house, underneath his heavy
! marble monument.
The tallest yew has Jacobs tomb in
shadow. There stands the hoary sister,
gaunt and grim, stretching her black
arms over the white urn, whereon she
staining the marble like drops of blood,
which gradually wash out the stains.
Oh, Jacob, Jacob is that marble urn
and your gorgeous coffin all that is left
to you of your wealth? Farewell. l
am not your judge. You have entered
the presence of higher judge, into
whose hands we must all fall at last.
"Du Ge6er himmezl" muttered Rath
Marquardsen, lingering the yellow man
uscript tenderly; "this man should
have been philosopher or preacher !;
he was thrown away upon the magis-
tracy
There was a note at the foot Of the
page in different handwriting, to the
effect that Franz Volkhausen had found
the above among his late fathers papers,
and had placed it with the annals of
the courthouse for the year 1853.
Rath Marquardsen sat meditating be-
| L. L. j L. /
manuscript was fast changing into a
creeping, gristly terror, such as he never
had experienced in all his life before.
Jacobs strange curse had taken full
possession of his imagination. He was
afraid TO look up lest he should see the
old mans covetous, cruel eyes fixed
upon him. He had horrible idea that
if he turned around he might find him
at his elbow, or peeping at him from be-
hind the window curtain, which was
certainly moving slightly. In his un-
reasoning trepidation, the rath got UP
and made an undig nifed retreat into
, his bedroom, looking behind him al
, every step. He tumbled into bed after
but short toilet operations, feeling safe
only when he drew the eider-dowr
plumeau over his head.
But wicked old Jacob followed him
. there, and tormente him all night in
dreams. He dreamed that he proceeded
to the cemetery at Friedrich's Thor, got
the sexton TO open the grave, and founc
, Jacobs corpse undecayed in its velve
: coffin; that it opened its eyes when tbs
light reached it, and, springing up
: clutched him by the throat.
He awoke trembling, with cold drops
/ of respiration standing on his face
2 Falling asleep again, the vivid dream
t awakened him.
Strange to say, the impression die
not wear off, like most Authorizations
: with the daylight, but Jacobs histor,
e haunted him all the time he was bus
{, going home to his dinner, he went t.
his friend and crony, Prof Won Schenl
9 of the college museum, and showed
l him his treasure-trove, the yellow man
Y uscript.
i; A very long discussion between thes
+ two erudite men of Gottingen ended il
S their taking their hats and setting on
g arm-in-arm for the cemetery.
Marquardsen led his friend past tn
= forest of little black crosses where tn
s peasants lay, to the broad alley wher
h reposed the great and noble, stated
o assembly of broken columns, snow
urns, and tall monuments. The tomb
It of those lately dead were known er
e you came close enough to read tn
s. date of their inscriptions, by the fres
st wreaths of everlasting which lovin
hands had hung upon their tombstone
Is last All-Souls' day. Bright garden
IT fiourished over the breasts of thos
1T much-lamented ones.
1t The name of Winterwerb was we
Of nigh forgotten in Gottingen, so that th
lie rath did not dream of searching anon
lie these for Jacobs grave. He hurried O
st to where the seven old yew-trees stoo
lie in hoary array, and there, sure enough
of was the beautiful marble urn, no longe
ID white, but gray and venerable after tn
lapse of a century.
ly Here it is p cried Rath Marquardse
of in a hoarse tone, that almost startle
es himself. Jacob Winterwerk, who d
It, parted this life, June %, 1853, deep
W respected and regretted"
ar HStav vo,, thara ~ cold tho b,,e;p as