Litchfield enquirer., 1876-05-18

pitied himself for not being able to keep up the family name.
 At last there came day when even Mr. Phillips proud spirit was crushed. More than the. lossof wife and children. did this trial bow him to the earth. Loss after loss had come to him in his busi- ness, until at length he was obliged to give up all into the hands of his credi- tors. He surrendered everything - house and household goods, not even taking the benefit which the law allowed him. Yet there were not wanting some among the injured, who openly asserted their belief that Mir. Phillips had actu- ally saved money by the operation, and even cited his utter relinquishment of all visible property as proof that he vas remunerat.d by that which was un- seen..
 sIIis friends forsook him; one by one dropping of. unable to vouch for his innocence His health failed, and even if it had not, he could not have witnessed the public sale which was now an nounced. of his household treasures.
 He had tortured himself by throwing into his creditors hands even little tri- fling mementos of the past literally leaving everything in his house, save his own clothing and his private desk. which, whatever others thought, contained little but family letters, and the miniature of little child, with curl of golden hair at the back of the locket. That child! Oh, if he could but now recall the past If he had but spoken kindly and forgivingly, that child might now have been near to save his gray hairs from shame and disgrace.
 There was, as We have said, a public .sale It comprised the store and house. hold goods, and included a valuable horse, which Mrs. Phillips failing health had induced him to buy, and which he would not part with after her death. The man had g tender spot in his heart after all. His first question, when the man who had been his clerk came into his solitary room at boarding house. the night after the sale, was:-
 @Who bought Fleetwood?"
 q did not know the man, sir. He was stranger. There were many strangers there, and I did not learn the name of him who purchased the horse. He was in the house a good part of the time, and I noticed that he bid for a number of things"
 q hope Fleetwood has kind master,' observed Mr. Phillips, after pause.
 The clerk was going, but returnedi after short barley with some one at the door,
 "Here's a man, sir, who wishes you to meet him at the house you occupied, at haf-past nine this evening""
 "What can any one want of me there?' said Mir. Phillips, with an uneasy ges- ture.
 ; '.I scannot tell. sir. I did not know the man, but from the dim glance had of him at the door, should say it was the man who was bidding upon the horse when came away, and the same who bought Fleetwood"
 q must go, suppose; yet if he is a gentleman, I should hardly think he would expose me to the pain of going there"
 Mr. Phillips walked to his own house with trembling steps. He looked old and feeble, like a man who had numbered, twice his years He reached the door that once opened to his familiar touch and rang the bell. The woman who had so long kept his house opened it, and ushered him to the sitting room. from which, years ago, he had ordered his boy from his sight forever.
 This thought flashed into his mind, and was more vivid, from the circumstance of his own armchair being removed out of its ordinary place, and set in the mid dle of the room, and low chair directly in front of it, on which Samuel had leaned in passionate weeping. The boy, in his misery, on that night, had left his cap hanging on the corner of that low chair; and. as if to deepen the fathers anguish tonight, boys cap hung there again. How well he remembered it How he shook with the memories that rose up to his mind! His fearful eyes scarcely took in the figure of noble looking gentleman who now entered the room, and desired him to walk around the house. Every piece of furniture was in its old place. In his own chamber, the little arrangements of his dressing table were precisely as they always were; and in a little bedroom beside it, were the two small beds in which his boys used to sleep.
 He looked up at his conductor through his fast falling tears. Something in his face, in the bright, flashing eyes of the stranger, went to his heart. They had returned to the sitting room, and the stranger held his hand with a warm, loving grasp. He heard the words, 'eThis is all yours, dear father" and then the two men sank together upon their knees, while the younger breathed out a feryent thanksgiving that he had been spared to comfort and console him in his hour of adverse fortune.
 Stung with his fathers cruel words, Samuel Phillips. had de- serted his home, and, driven almost to desperation, had wandered away from the place that knew him, to far city,, Providence raised up friends to the deso- late boy. He found himself trusted honored, respected; and at the death of one who had been as father to him, he became wealthy. He saw the notice of the sale in newspaper hurried on to prevent it, and arrived only when it had already commenced.
 He had heard of his mothers death, and from that time he resolved never to return. But when he found that his father was in real distress, all was for gotten, save the thought that he might be in time to save him from open dis grace or actual want. Everything had fallen into his hands, for the by-standers saw that he was determined to possess M