Sunbury American. [volume] (Sunbury, Pa.) 1848-1879, 1874-11-20

y i The newspaper screen came between tn
- master Of the house and the old houseleep
e er once more, but it could not quite shu
# from Lis ears the murmur Of the good wo
e man, as she left the room:
e Dear, dear, What q pity. And 81
: rich, too. -
. . So rich He dropped the paper ant
+ fire, thinking of the bank account, the rail
b way stock, the rows Of houses, The western
r lands, the mine shares, the various invest
eN ments that made his great wealth increase
year by year, scarcely lessened by the ba
5 chelor expenses of his handsome house.
So rich So poor Not, one hand tc
grasp his lovingly. Not one voice to wei
+ come him to n family gathering. In his
youth, before he had filled his purse, dark
! eyed girl, Minnie Wayland, had loved him
: and had Won his heart, but parents inter
fered, dismissed the penniless clerk, and
Minnie married reputed millionaire. Ru.
mOrs had reached him of the ruin Of his
, rival but nothing definite, though he
, knew the parents who had taken the true
love from him rested under the daisies years
ago.
Then, ,stung by the refusal his poverty had
brought him, he had resolved to win gold.
Through hard work, bitter, self denial, a
close, miscrly counting Of every penny, he
had made the nucleus of fortune, and dol
lars rolled into his hands, tin he could
laugh at the miserable sum the Waylands
had told him Minnie's husband must Sc
cure.
He married then, and three bright-eyed
boys were born to him, and died. Then a
goden-haircd girl lay in its mothers arms
while the wife looked with dying eyes into
the stern face that had ever been kind and
loving for her, and from husband and babe
floated into the great hereafter. The babe
became an idol, growing into a fair child,
a tender woman, and when every loving
I thought of the fathers heart centred in her,
she fled from him to wed poverty and de-
! gradation..
Had it been poverty alone, the memory
of his own youth would have stayed ST.
mon Clayton's refusal but the lover who
sought Laura Clayton's hand was an idler,
and rnmor said gambler as well. Hand
some, courteous, well born, he had won
/ the girls heart with well-feigned adora-
! tion, and the loving father who sought to
shelter her from certain misery was de-
serted.
| Then came the iron into Simon Clay
toms SOUL locking every kindly impulse,
/ hardening every feature, shutting out all
charity, all gentleness. He had sent back
unopened every letter Laura wrote, and
lived hermit's life inrtbe very heart ofthe
great city of New York.
| Dreaming of il all over the fire, he was
reused from thought by knock at the
| door, and in answer to his Come in,' lad
entered carrying a letter. n tall, hand
some boy Of seventeen, with the country
bloom upon his ruddy face, and the cut Of
coratry tailor in his rough clothes, yet,
withal, lad with large, Intelligent eyes,
broad full brow, and 4 mouth full of reso-
luton in its firm clasp and wcll-cut out
lines. Dof1ing his cap, he presented his
letter, and the OLD man throbbed with pain
ful force as he glanced at the signature. 1t
was brief letter, scarcely more than a note,
reading:
DEAR SIMON l am dying, and | may
call you so now will you give a helping
hand to my son who will bring this to you
after have left this world Five little
children lay beside my husband in the
churchyard, but my youngest, Cyrus, my
only one, sits beside me while | write. We
have scarcely enough of worldly wealth to
save me from pauper's grave, and send
my son to you, but by my old love, Simon,
| impIorc you to help him to obtain en-
plOyment | have been Il true wife and a
good mother, as far as | could, Simon, yet
on my deathbed | know that my only love
was given to me when they parted US, and
will be yours if we meet in another world.
MINNIE.
There was deep silence in the room as
Simon Clayton read the letter, and he was
forced TO wait many minutes before his
voice would obey him to ask
Your mother is dead =
She died in the summer, sir
why have you waited SO long to come
to me ?
1T ttook all we had to pay our debts and
the funeral expenses, and had to work to
earn my travelling money to come from H.
linois'
You want employment now =
4 shall be very grateful, sir, if you will
help me to find work;
To-day is a holiday. You will be my
guest for the present, and | will see what
can do for you.'
/ As Simon Clayton spoke, he reached out
his hand and touched bell upon the table
| near him. His hOusekeeper answered the
/ summons.
You see I have campany, Mrs. Grey
he said, and the housekeeper wondered at
4 the change in his face and voice, lacking all
severity, yet so sad. You will have a
| room made comfortable for Mr.. Ford
/ The woman courteseyed and was gone,
/ and Simon questioned his young guest.
/ His eyes were misty more than once over
/ the straightforward story of priyation the
/ boy told, his evident devotion to his moth
/ cr, who had been widowed when he was
! a baby. 1t was not difficult to see that the
/ boy, ground down by poverty, had yet
craving for education, and had profited by
/ all his mother could teach him. His very
touch upon the books on the table, bis eyes,
when they rested upon the well-tilled book
cases, told the brain hunger better than
spoken words. So before Mrs. Grey call
ed them to dinner, Simon Clayton was
/ planning the lads future as his adopted
son.
True Thanksgiving fare the kind-hearted
housekeeper had prepared for the uneX-