The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1876-10-11
THE SAME OTHER MAN.
BY MONSIEUR LIE CoNTEUR.

| bIdJlOu VI JuSIICe-L TeCdlleu All Ouu~SUO'
ry told me by an old ship carpenter with
whom | once boarded.
| The adventure is almost incredible; I;
but as the narrator was perfectly hon :
est and worthy man, who had no object
whatever in deceiving me, believe it
| to have been literal statement of facts.
No doubt, too, many OF our readers can
remember episodes. in the live" Of their
immediate cquantances, equally
strange and romantic.
81 was about twenty years old" said
the ship carpenter, ''when l took to fol-
rowing the sea. My first voyage was 10
the West Inuies, in merchant-Vessel
from New York; and when L got aboard
of her, and realized that | was actually
about to part from all my friends, my
family, my home-everythiug l loved
and ,valued-lwas lonesome enough, |
can tell you.
IL stood looking over the side, where
| a tug was making fast to take US down
| the bay, wnen boat came up with our
captain, and new hand-the last one
of our iull complement.
"This fellow was about. nv own age,
as near as l could guess, and much the
same size, build, ana temperament as
myself. 1 fancied, as he came up the
side, that he looked something like me !;
and when he threw his kit on deck, felt
little startled, somehow, to see the
name of Andrew Bum on it. / began
! to think ne might be me, and somebody
elsel
| "Well, from this resemblance OF per-
son and name, telt interested in him,
| of course; and as we began to get ac-
quainted, we began to get friendly. The
other men did not seem to care much
about us, one way or the other; SO we
became cronies, aud, whenever we could
manage it, had the watch together, so
that we could spin yarns and exchange
condolences.
"In the course of time, we told each
other everything we knew; all our past
lives and experiences; our love affairs
our scrapes; our sprees; our family his
tories; our prospects--everyth that
| we could think of to tell, was told over
and over again, during that long and
home-sick voyage, until each knew the
other as well as if we had grown up side
by side from the cradle.
"IoH can imagine, then, sir, how badly
1 felt, when Andy was taken down with
the yellow fever, at Saint Thomas.
watched over him just as l might ovel
my own child, and did all that l could
but that wasn't mucn. L only eased his
sufferings little, till he died; and then
[ closed his eyes, and saw him buried
decently and Christianlike-poor boy
away out there in that strange land
thousands of miles away from his home
and family"
The ship carpenter paused a moment
and then, clearing his throat, continued
"Ju,t before he died, he become con
scious for shUrt time and the delirious
ness lett him. He called me to him an(
said he knew he was going to die, AM
| wanted me to do him favor.
"'Your'e likely to ship for England
some time, Andy says he; 'and ii yoI
ever get to Liverpool, l want you u
| tahe trip to s., about hundred
miles back in the country, and find my
mother and sister. Tell 'em all abouI
me-now died and all-and give them
my kit and pay. They'll treat you JUS
like you was the son and brother; and
you can stay just as long as you please
Now, mind; If you ship for Liverpool
only SHIP tor the outward voyage, an(
promise me you'll take my last bless
ing to my poor old mOtherp
| Il promised. and he went to sleep
feeling easy. He never woke up agalIl
| in this word.
| "Well, 1 knocked around, up and
| down the world for about eleven years,
before l ever got to Liverpool; but L
didn't forget Andy, nor my promise t.
him. That Liverpool voyage was my
last taste of seataring life. went from
New YORK, shipping only for the pas
sage OUT, and taking Andy's kit, his
watch, his Bible, his money, and every
thing as he had left them.
1--WE had an awful nasty voyage. The
captain and mate were pair OF brutes
and | was right glad to get ashore; es.
pecially as l had saved up pretty
good little bit of money, and intended d
to take good long rest in the quiet
| English village OF s., if | liked An
dy's folks as well as L had liked HIM.
cit was night when l arrived in the
place; but inquired for Widow Bunn's
house, and went there at once. Nobody
answered my knock, SO in l walked
without ceremony, TO a pleasant, home
like sort OF sitting-room, where nice
fire was burning III the CRATE, and a tea
table was set ready for the family.
| ''JusJ as | went IN at the front door. 6
fne-l looking old lady i'll black came in
fl ON the adjoining kitcnen, with plate
or tray i'll her hands.
s'She looked at me for half minute
and then, dropping the dishes on the
floor, fell into my arms, crying anC
laughing, and calling me her dear SOL
AnQy, and behaving like mad woman.
ga young woman-a very pretty CIR
| OF about tWenty-one or tWo-came do A.
stairs on hearing the outcry, and wen
through the same performance herself
| addressing me as her brother, and ask.
ing M fifty questions without waiting
| for an answer to one.
II knew, OF course, that this was the
mother and sister 1 had heard of SO often,
and you can imagine, sir, how awk
| wardly WAS fixed between them. Theil
Ijoy was perfect il welcoming, as they
| thought, their son and brother back tt
his old home, and now l had to unde
| ceiVe them most crueIly--to tell then
that they had been kissing and caressint
stranger, and that the other Andy war
dead and buried, for eleven long years
in distant landl ...
| "Still, that Was the only honest thing
| L had to do; and l don't know whaI
devil prompted me TO keep up the mis-
| take-Lo pass my self off for the Widows
son, and TO assume his identity in place
OF my own. can't justify myself in it
or apologize for it on any honest ground ;
and 1 can solemnly affirm that | never
nave ceased to be sorry for ever since.
cit was easy enough for me to carry
out the deception. They hadn't see n
Andy. for twelve years and over; and a
man at nineteen or twenty looks very
RI fPnr hn