Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1876-03-02

serNeu 10 cOnnrm my 1rSt impressions
of her education and culture.
After an exquisite supper, daintily
served, mine host invited me into the
library, remarking that l might make
myself comfortable, for must remain
his guest for the night, ,at the same time
wheeling one of the large Turkish ca
sy chairs before the blazing hickory
fire. He then produced a couple of
fragrant Havanas, and, lighting one l
prepared myself 10 hear my hosts sim
gular desire to protect those ill-omen-
ed birds, the crows.
1t is that story, told as nearly as |
can recall it after all these years, in his
own words, that propose to relate to
YOU.
was born in Oneida county, New
York, and was intended by my father
for lawyer, but, after delving year
in the office of an eminent practitioner
of that county, became dissatisfied, re-
nounced the idea of acquiring profess
sion, and went to the city OF New
York, where l entered the mercantile
house of Smith & Talbot, then, as now,
one of the wealthiest firms in the i'm
porting line in that city. But promo
ton in the counting room comes slow;
particularly SO while one has but little
capital to advance his Interests.
While i'll the employ of this house, L
met for the first time niece of one OF
the members of the firm-Iny wife;
and when, two years later, my father
died, and left me a small competency,
l took it and entered into business for
myself, and, within a year, married.
From the date of our marriage, my life
was a blessed one indeed; nothing
seemed to disturb the even tenor of our
lives, for we drifted along in the cur
rent, forgetfdl of all else save our own
happiness, and, l now fear, seltishly,
needless of the cares and troubles oi
Others.
After five years of unalloyed bappi-
ness my wife became the mother OF a
beautiful boy; and it seemed as though
| had nothing more TO desire, no great
er boon to esk for. Then came the IL
nancial crisis of '57, that caused such
widespread disaster and ruin, among
the mercantile community, and for d
time it seemed impossible that my
house would be able to withstand the
crash that swept like a whirlwind
through the country; but l finally
weathered the storm, and, by good
management, came through ii stronger
than ever.
Shortly after this, our ckild was ta-
ken sick, and it seemed for months as
though we would lose him. He par
TALLY recovered, though my physician,
after many mysterious hints that l can
understand now, told me that, il
wanted to see him grow to years OF
maturity, must leave New York, ,and
find home upon some Western farm.
] can't tell you, sir, how L dreaded
to inform my wife what the physician
had said; it seemed terrible sacrifice
to ask her to make; and it was only
after months of hesitation that L ven-
tured, one day, to broach the subject
to her. To my great joy, she saw the
necessity, and at once consented tC
leave New York, our friends, acquain-
tances, culture, ease, and luxury, foi
the discomforts of pioneer life.
In closing my business in the city,
an opportunity occurred which ena'
bled me secure what was termed fine
tract of wild Western land; and to il
we came. built this house, and sur
rounded our home with such comforts
as we could procure; for here we deter.
mined to remain and rear our child
who was fast growing to be noble
boy.
: When Benny was four years old, he
, was child that any parent might
have been proud of; and when we saw
his ruddy cheeks, and the perfect pic
of health that he appeared, his mother
and myself both felt that no sacrifice
we had made for him was too great.
He was the apple of our eyes, sir, the
breath of our life, and had grown to be
the idol of our home-our household
god, to the exclusion of all things else.
Three years ago this fall, when Ben
ny was almost five years old, one dark
November day was in the field where
L had couple of men at work, and,
late i'm the afternoon, L chanced to look
up, and saw the little fellow, accom-
panied by his pet rabbit, coming to-
ward me from the house.
went to meet him, and, taking him
in my arms, told him that it was too
cold for him out there, and to run back
to bis mother. l was busy at the time,
and thought no more of the matter un-
til Just before dusk, when [ returned to
the house, and my wife met me at the
door with the inquiry:
"Where's Benny?"
I Before the question had fairly left
her lips, felt a chill go over me like
an ague fit; cold hands seemed to
clutch my heart, cold to lips whisper
in my ear. "Benny's dead" l turned
toward my wife and saw that as she
looked into my face hers grew ashy
pale, while she waited for my answer.
My tongue fairly cleaved to the roof O1
my mouth, and / could not have an
sWered a word had my life paid the
|, forfeit. At last she seemed to read my
thoughts; for, seiZing my arm with &
/, grasp that | can feel to this day, she
gave such wall of anguish as mortaI
ear never listened to before, and fell tt
; the floor insensible.
| can't tell you why l thought so
but, from the. moment my wife asked
,, for the child had presentment thai
Benny was dead. 1t flashed upon me
like lightning, nor could / get lid of it
though it weighed me down like an
incubus.
We were alone in the house at The
time, and | picked hcr up from the
floor and carried her to the room there
!, and laid her upon the bed. Then
! summoned assistance, and went out o
doors to find that it had grown bitter
!, cold, as well as very dark INSTANTLY
; dispatched my men to rouse the neigh
[ bors and then returned to the house Il
endeavor to console my poor wife. A,
| entered the door, the sound OF my
steps appeared TO rouse her to con
sciousDess, for she sprang toward me
and, throwing her arms about my neck
and looking pleadintily into my face,
cried:
: "You will bring me back my darling
: boy, won't you, Paul? ?"
| promised her would, and she be-