The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1876-09-13

Among his friends, among his foes,
He follows upon his horny toes,
The little dog under the wagon!
AFTER MANY DAYS.
An old man lay in the little chambe,
off the best room of Abram Linmar's un
pretentious farmhouse, listening hal
unconscious to the sound of voices, nov
in stern demand, again in humble plead
ing and protestation. His long gray
hair and beard swept the snowy linen o.
the pillows, against which his bronzed,
sunken face seemed darker and more
hollow; his bony fingers beat the cover.
lid in anger and sympathy, as his ear fol
lowed the words of the speakers, and 6
glitter sparkled in his eyes, which had,
for five weary weeks, been glazed and
dulled with fever.
CT wish they'dcome in" he muttered
to himself ; 81 want to know all about
it; T was asleep at the first and CAM
guess how it begun, but it is evident the
good people OF this house are in deep
trouble"
He had hardly ceased when the doc,
of the apartment opened and Dame Lin.
mar stepped in with the noiseless foot
of the anxious nurse. Seeing that hel
patient was awake and was looking
eagerly and inquiringly at her, she ap.
preached the bedside and spoke to him
in a voice as sad and mournfulas sorrow
can train q woman's tones to be.
awake, sir2 Has the talking in the
other room disturbed you9"
cit has not broken my rest, but what
I have heard has disturbed my mind.
What is it? I only know that somebody
gives you till next Monday morning to
leave this comfortable home"
cit is about a mortgage, sir. But
here comes my poor, old husband; he
will explain it better than I can
At the word the door opened again
and Abram Linmar entered with bowed
head and firmly pressed lips.
"He's gone, Janet, and taken the
very last grain of hope I nurtured. Not
even the memory of the service I rem
dered him two-and-twenty years ago in
saving his life when he was at the mercy
of the highwaymen availed anything,
and we shall have to leave the roof that
has sheltered us so long, doubly dear to
me as the work of my own hands and
the scene of genial associations"
Farmer Linmar, excuse the imper-
Thence of my curiosity" said the low
voice of the invalid, 81 know a little
of your trouble. May I not know all 2"
"Alas, SIR" replied the hopeless
host, "the story is short as our future
stay within these walls will be brief.
Five years ago my son in New York, be-
ing embarrassed, I borrowed from my
next neighbor, a very wealthy man, the
sum of eight thousand dollars and gave
him a mortgage on this-my farm of one
hundred acres. Instead Of gaining re-
lief, my son became more embarrassed,
failed utterly, and, from The grief OF his
disappointment, died. I have paid two
Thousand of the principal and now ten
der a third thousand, and beg that my
creditor will not proceed to extremities.
But I plead to stone. He acknowledges
that for years he has coveted my land,
separating, as it does, two parcels of his
own, and, indeed, he has made me many
offers for it; now that he has the power
to compel a sale, he swears that he will
force the matter and outbid any com.
petitor, as he has the means at his com
mand. He says thathe offers me inreturn
all the money and interest I have paid
to him in consideration of my quietly
surrendering possession, and I suppose
I must. There's no other way"
"And I have been q charge on you In
such dire extremity" said the sick man,
teebly; sit would have been better TO,
you to have left me to die by the road
side, broken down and fever parched,
where you found me. Many @ precious
dollar you must have parted with in my
long illness for physicians and their nos
trums. I am too weak to even thank
you properly"
"Say not so. The little you have had
in money or attendance will never help
to impoverish us. It was bread cast
upon the waters and it will return
The good farmer said this almost cheer.
fully, for he reflected how much bette,
off at worst he and his dame and dsugh'
ter Marian were, than the homeless,
friendless old man who lay in his care.
latter many days; after many days.
continued the sick man, finishing tbs
promise. "But I am afraid. farmer,
that neither you nor I will live till it
."Why, don't talk 80, sir" broke in
Dame Linmar, "it's been a real comfort
for us to do the little we could for you.
We are onlylpaying q debt We owe. Our
boy died away from home among strang.
ers, and they were good and kind to
him when things were so bad that he
would not let us know, fearing our great
distress ; the kindness he got from
strangers we are glad to pay back in in
sallments."
"Would that I could aid you, as I
nave read Of men apparently poor and
helpless doing for those who have sue
cored or shown kindness to them, but
my poverty is no disguise. I am poor,
indeed; absolutely without q dollar or a
friend in the world. Coming this way
I was only wandering in search of death
to avoid the almshouse, and it grieves
me that I should have fallen where I am
so heavy and unfortunate a charge"
"Say no more, sir, or you will take
from our performance all the merit
which attaches to it." said the farmer;
we would be in worse need than you il
we would afford 80 little relief grudging-
~ or withhold it."
"You speak like one who knows
mans constant dependence, even in his
highest fortune. But you have not vi
told me who is this ine1orable creditor.
Tell me, that I may correct good report,
if such q lie comes to my ears"
"He is rich, respected and of excel,
lent repute. His name is Asahel Pen
COST"
No stimulant could have 50 strength.
ened the weak muscles Of the invalid as
the simple .pronouncing of that name
did. He rose to his elbow, his deep set
eyes glowing with the fire OF excite.
ment.
"Asahel Pencost," he repeated; "do
you know where he came from7"
eyes. He settled in these parts near,
ly forty years ago, coming from near
old Gloucester in Massachusetts, I've
heard say. though information on that
o,;,t ;e MT nor1, 5a4pito