Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1876-10-19
The Sturp Teller.
From Tlnsley's London Magazine.
OLD ABEL'S MILESTONE.

From Tlnsey's London Magazine.
OLD ABEL'S MILESTONE.
understand me, Abel both my father and
myself are perfectly satisfied with the amount
already paid"
"Many thanks to you, sir, for the saying Of
it; but nothing short of the full sum will sat.
isfy me. At the time (eight years ago next
midsummer) it was reckoned at a hundred
and fifty pounds in round numbers. mean
to pay it every farthing, please heaven, if
live long enough. If / die afore, 1 hope
Polly'll keep up the payment reg'lar."
"But, really, Abel, don't like taking this
money. I am sure these payments must Grip
pie you terribly"
"Neyer you mind that, Mr.. Baker, junior.
I feel something on my conscience which is
worse than hunger or cold, and it won't be easy
until I've paid you all. There's FIVE pound
ten, sir; not so much as last halfyear, because
of Polly's illness in the spring but I hope to
make it more next time. If you enter the
sum in this book and add it up, you'll find it
makes ninety pounds"
"Ninety pounds exactly. Well, if you in.
sist on my taking the money, suppose I must
Is your daughter married yet, Webb3"
"Not yet, SIR
"Lkely to be?"
"Well, I'm afraid it's higher than I like u
"What you dsapprove of her choice?"
"Oh no, not bit. Tom Smiths as good a
fellow as ever lived. He'll get on, that boy
will. He's sober, honest and manly; and
thatll tell in the long run. But I'd rather
she hadn't anybody after her-leastways until
the debts squared 'twixt you and me-"
"A debt that, as you know, we already con-
slider discharged"
"But which I don't, Mr.. Baker, junior.
However, I'm a keeping you. Goodnight,
sir ; and many thanks for your kindness" ;"
With that Abel Webb retreats, hat in hand
and bowing to Baker, junior, with every back
ward step he takes, finds himself by and by
at the haIf.slass door opening to tie outer of
foe: Arrived here, he once more thanks the
young partner of Baker & Baker, wholesale
druggists of Ipecacuanha lane, Aldermanbury,
and at last emerges into the crowded thor.
oughfare
It is the dusk of an October evening, and
brisk dapper young men are hurrying along
the narrow courts and alleys, bent upon the
delights of home or the Intoxicating pleasures
they expect to find elsewhere. The large
warehouses are closed, and the gas burns but
dimly in the grimy chambers appropriated to
those whose duty it is to remain in the premi.
ses after business hours. Abel Webb takes
scant notice of what is passing around him.
He is little man, poorly clad, upon whose
shoulders fifty-fve years of unremittipg toll,
anxiety, trouble and heavy disappointment
weigh heavily. His hair is as white as the
hoar-frost, and the wrinkles upon mis- forehead
and the dark hollows beneath his eyes make
him appear far older man than he really is !;
but despite his puny stature, his weather-bea-
ten aspect, and the wrinkles of age, be is as
hopeful in spirit as ever, while there rests on
his features an expression of patience and
quiet determination, giving token that Abel
Webb still thinks himself capable of many a
tussle in the struggle for life.
Generally speaking, Abel cannot be con-
sdered good walker; neither does he ordina-
rily whistle stirring national melodies as he
elbows his way throu the teeming street.
Yet, however, as he.pays his half:yearly visits
toBaker, junior, be seems to become imbued
with fresh life, fresh hope and increased
strength. The patient old man recognizes
the change himself, and joyfully feels that the
milestone of debt, which has for so many
years hung about his neck, is less heavy than
before.
Away from the close thoroughfares of the
city on to the Thames embankment. His
walk has been long and fatiguing, and resting
his arms upon the stone balustrade, he pauses
for a few moments with his eyes fixed upon
the dark, silent-fowing river. "a hundred
and fifty pounds" he murmurs, as he looks
out upon the sweep of waters before him-"a
lot of money, lot of money! Easily squan'
dered, but how difficult to save! A fortune
to men like me. Honest Abel Webb, the
BOYS used to call me at school honest Abel
Webb, have been to my employers, and
honest Abel Webb, I'll try to be to the end of
my days."
The changing tones of "Big Ben" woke Abel
Webb from his reverie. With the sudden
thought that his daughter Polly would be
home before him if he didn't make great haste,
he set off at a brisk trot, resuming his CHEEKY
whistle as he went along.
And, sure enough, home she was
How cozy the little place looked 1t was
a pattern of neatness and domestic comfort.
The table was laid for supper, a nice crisp
loaf being fanked by a piece of cheese (placed
upon small plate in order to make it appear
more than it really was), and yes, really a
gigantic cucumber. Polly, who was kneeling
before the fire, vigorously applying the bellows
and melting the Goals to a perfect fury OF
flame, had not lighted candle, and certainly
none was wanted. The bright blaze brought
into full view the nettle-geranium occupying
the table in front of the window; it lit up the
photograph of the mild looking woman (Pol-
iy's mother) on the other side Of the room it
showed the brass. knobbed piece of furniture,
to outward view bureau, but to the Initiated
frequenter of Abel's apartments, nothing more
nor less than turn-up bedstead, in which the
father himself slept; and it reflected its
brightness upon the sideboard, with its orna-
ments of ware, few books, and the old.fash-
ioned work box, containing so many relics
dear to Abel and his daughter, among others
tiny babys shoe, once worn by that boy
(now dead) on whom Abel had lavished such
wealth of paternal love.
"Why, you're rather]ate, father, amt your
inquired the girl, springing to her feet, and
giving old Abel such a sounding kiss that it
might almost have been heard on the pave.
ment outside, if anybody had been curious
enough to listen, give been home long
time"
"well, Polly, I've bssn + to the savings bank