Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1875-02-11
THE CLOuGHS AND THE HEATHER
CLOUGHS.

WHAT passion is it which keeps man
quarreling to all eternity, which clings to
him after every other human emotion
has deserted him-yea, which grasps his
soul in its steel clutches even as the man
is growing cold in death? Avarice
1t had kept John ClOugh and Baby
lonia Heatherclough quarreling for forty
years. They were deadly enemies. He
was a widower, seventy-five years old;
she was a widow, and seventy.
Promising young couple to build a
romance on, aren't they?
Both laid claim to the fairest and rar-
est bit of property in the village of
Heatherton. This property was known
in all Heatherton, all the county, indeed
through well-nigh the whole State, as the
Bone" That was because it was the
bone OF contention which these two old
misers had been picking at for forty
years. The Bone" consisted Of a wide
dollhouse, surrounded by magnificent
park, English STYLE with grand trees,
and a lovely little lake in the center,
wherein tiny darting fish turned their
glancing, red-gold sides up TO the light.
Here, on the UNCOVERED banks of this
lakelet, begin my story. Here, whether
by a remarkable accident or by real fell
intent of the adversary himself, at the
self-same hour and moment, the two
for forty years met.
There" said Babylonia Heather
clough to the stout serving-maid on
whose arm she leaned" there's that old
wretch! | wonder if he is going to live
forever"
Who's that, Mariana" said John
Clough to his granddaughter. " 1t isn't
yes, it is; it's my old friend, that sweet
voiced female of the name of Babylonia.
They said last week that she was on her
death-bed. Death-bed! Humph! She'll
never die. They won't have her in heaven
and t'other place amt big enough for
her"
At this they came up opposite. 1t was
painful sight, these two, in whom hate
had outlived strength, glazing at each
other like a couple of toothless tigers.
The spite and venom of nearly half
century Kissed in their trembling voices
as they fought each other with hard
words, almost the only weapons left
them in their helpless, loveless old age
Clough spoke first:
I'd have you understand, mistress,
that my park isn't a public highway"
g Your park screeched Babylonia. "I
suppose my silver spoons belong to you,
too, don't they? John Clough, I'm sew
enty years old this day, and you're the
first man l ever saw who was mean
enough to try to drive a childless widow
out of the home her father gave her
with his dying breath"
John Clough WINGED a little, but he
gathered courage in a moment 81
wouldn't try to put you out of the house,
mistress, if you didn't have a better one
to go to. What possesses you to want
to hang to that old barn l don't know
1t leaks all over. The neighbors tell me
that whenever it rains you have to keep
pans a-settin' all over the floor to catch
the water that leaks in. You'll catch
your death there yet, woman"
Don't you iatter yourself, John
Clough. I'll live to hear the bell toll for
your funeral and long enough after it to
come into my rights. I'll build a monu-
ment over your grave then, I'll promise
you I've life enough in me to last
twenty years yet, I'd have you know"
6 1t isn't life, it's the Old Nick in the
woman, that's what it is" muttered
Clough to himself.
"Come, grandpa, let's so home" said
his granddaughter.
Mind your business, Mariana" re-
piled the old man, fretfully. Look
here, mistress, do you know what !
know? Your father never came by this
property honestly. The Marshalls hahn t
an honest bone in their bodies and in my
opinion they hadn't fur to go to learn
it. I've got the law on my side, ma am,