Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1874-08-20
The Sturg Teaer.
TAKING 1T FOR GRANTED.

With marks of rough, stormy life all
over him, rough man Of about fifty years
gray and sunburnt, sat in in my office.
found him there when I went in one morning
not long ago.
"Here is somebody waiting for you, Elwell,
said Mr.. Bigelow.
I looked around, and the man rose and held
out his hand.
"Averill-my name is Averill," said he,
looking sharply at me out Of pair of shrewd
grey eyes. 81 am an old friend ofyour moth,
er but have not met her for matter of
6ve.andtwenty years. So | thought la call
and ask after her and her family
II am glad to see you" said |. care you
a relative of my mother?"
"No," replied Mr.. Averill. We ewere of the
same name, but not connected-unless it may
be very distantly. I used to know her and
her folks, though, as well as did my own
sisters, and better, too. Let's see-where is
your Aunt Augusta now?"
"She is living with her children in Port
land" said 1.
"Pretty we'll, is she, do you know?" asked
Mr.. Averill.
"Very we'll when we heard last. Aunt
Augusta has good children and pleasant
home, and seems quite happy"
"Um-m.m.m That is nice" said Mr.. Av-
erill, fumbling at a rough nugget of gold that
hung as charm from his watch. chain.
hadn't much to do that day, so / talked
off and on with my visitor till it was time to
90 home, and then took him with me. [ left
him in the sitting-room and went to find
mother. She was mixing biscuit for supper,
looking through her glasses, and singing a
snatch of some old halfforgotten love-ditty
of her youth.
"Mother" said I, breaking in upon her
song, "Come in the other room. An old
friend of yours wants to see you"
Mother looked up over her glasses.
can old friend 'Tisn't any of the Maine
folks, is it?" she asked.
Because, if it was so much as dog that
had trotted across the corner of the State OF
Maine, on his four legs, mother would have
run, with her arms out and smile Of wei
come, without stopping to even wash the dough
off her hands. AS it was, with only an indef-
mite thought of seeing San old FRIEND" she
went, with dust of -four on her nose, and
without her company cap.
As soon as she had stepped inside the sit
ting-room door, she stood and looked at her
guest, and he stood and looked at her.
"It is Sam, as true as you are born!' she
said, at last.
Then they both laughed, and then they
both wiped their eyes, though they didn't
seem like that sort of people, especially, Mr..
Averil.
I never knew mother to forget her house
keeping before, but this time she let the bis
cult burn till they were as black as my shoe
and when she mixed some more she put in
sugar instead of salt, and left out the salarat-
US altogether But her cheeks grew pink and
her capstrings few and she, nor her guest
seemed to know the difference.
"Oh, honey" cried my mother, hopping up
from the tea-table as soon as she was seated.
"You haven't lost your sweet.tooth, have you,
Sam?"
Chow you do remember" returned Sam,
admiringly.
81 should think ought to-" answered my
mother, with girlish laugh. "The way you
used to pick up walnuts to carry to the cross
roads store and trade for molasses to. make
candy of! Speaking of the crossroads store,
I wonder if you know our old store-keeper's
daughter, she that was Sarah Curly, has lost
her husband? p
"No, has she ? Strange I never heard of
it," replied Mr.. Averill, appearing as aston
shed as though he had been hearing from his
old neighbors every week.
Eyes" said my mother. "She married one
of old ST Seaver's boys, the oldest one, Jona-
than, and he died sudden-all at once we'll,
it must be something like halfadozen years
ago-and left his wife and so many children
five children or else six, don't know which" :"
"You don't say!" calculated Mr.. Averill,
passing his honey plate for the third time.
No, evidently he had not lost his sweet tooth.
After SUPPER mother washed up the dishes
and talked, and Mr.. Averill smoked his pipe
and listened. 1t was the first time / ever al
lowed anybody to smoke in my house, but
had nothing to say now. | even filled his
pipe and lighted it for him. And then he
told the story of his life, which had been full
of strange and interesting adventures. He
was evidently a man who did not read much
and who could not have written well, but he
could talk not always dramatically, per-
haps, but always with force and fascination.
1t seemed that years and years ago, his
in the valley of the Kennebec. My mothers
father was large farmer, and Mr.. Averills
father was a very small farmer with a very
large family. So his youngest son, Sam, came
to work for my grandfather My mother and
my Aunt Augusta were young girls-they
were twins, and suppose by the way they
look now that they must have been pretty
-eAsa.-- Ny mother was early engaged and
married to my father; but there was Augusta,
and there was Sam; and where one was you
might usually find the other near at hand.
Sam never said anything; he was not ola de-
monstrative kind, but he knew how he felt,
and he supposed Augusta knew too.
So the years budded and bossomed and
brought forth fruit, until at last Sam went
down to Connecticut to take charge of saw
mill for an uncle of his. He wrote to Aunt
Augusta and Aunt Augusta wrote to him
and now and then he came to Maine on busi-
ness, always going to my grandfather's before
he went home, and carrying himself toward
Augusta like all accepted lover.
After few years he found himself possessed
of twelve thousand dollars, and Immediately
went to work to spend it. He wend abroad,
to England and Rome and Egypt and Paris
and Germany and Sweden and Russia and
everywhere. When he came home at last, it
was with only fifty dollars in his pocket. So
next he went out among the copper mines OF
Lake Superior, and in time was again possess
ed of twelve thousand dollars.
"Now will come home and marry Angus
ta, and settle down." said he to himself. But
he didn't say it to anybody else. 1t never
occurred to him that it was necessary.