Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1877-09-27
The Sturp Teller*
GALL Is WELL THAT ENDS WELL


populous town that it is at present Fifty
years ago it was quiet, country village, with
its rapid streams flowing untrammeled to the
sea. Since then large manufactures have
been started, and hordes of foreign operatives
have invaded its peaceful precincts. Elm
street, where old Squire Huntington lived, and
Judge Hubbard, and the Hallowsys, Ripleys,
Fosters, and other great families, is no longer
sacred to their aristocratic memories, but re.
sounds to the hum and din of machinery, and
to the noisy broils of the barbarians who have
taken possession and settled in these no longer
grand mansions. Now, lofty spires and Chi
miug bells take the place of the old village
church, with its high-back uncushioned seats,
plain, unprepossessing exterior, where the
villagers were wont to gather to listen to the
good words spoken by the venerable Parson
Bigelow, whose words were law in the COM
munity where he lived.
Of these times, however, my story has little
to do, for all happened in the olden times be-
fore Pentonvile had aspired to so much con
sequence, but was content with its own PLAIN
ways and simple-minded inhabitants, with
their stern, purtanical morals, which covered
80 much kindness of heart.
On Monday Pentonville seemed all astr.
Matrons left their washtubs to gossip with
their neighbors, while maids and swains laugh
ed merrily with each other over the news as
they passed to and fro to their daily avoca-
tions. Even the children played their part
in the all absorbing topic, and the grim old
farmer could not resist chuckle now and
then, as he harnessed Dobbin for his weekly
pilgrimage to the landing. What was it that
80 convulsed Pentonville, and so disturbed its
methodcal ways? Well, it was a joke, a
practical joke, perpetrated by two miscbievous
boys. who did not realize the enormity Of their
offence, or its direful consequences 10 tell
what it was, we must 90 back little into the
history of the town.
Old Squire Hayes Gas he was called0 al
though he was not old or in6rm, but man
in the prime of life, was crusty bachelor,
who owned one of the finest farms in the State.
His broad, cultivated acres extended as far as
the eye could reach, and during harvesting
time laborers. would come from far and near
to gather his crops. Squire Hayes occupied
the best pew in church, lived in the finest
house in town, his horses were of the best
blood and most carefully matched, and bis
oxen the heaviest and stoutest. His orchards
yielded the choicest fruit (as many small
boy could testify, to his infinite disgust for
this part of the Squire's property was hedged
in by high walls and picket fences, and guard.
ed by the fercest of fierce watch dogs.
Squire Hayes was no favorite in town, for
seldom did kind word or action emanate
from him. Alone the man lived, having but
little to do with his fellow creatures, and seem
ing to care but little for their welfare; yet
there were few discerning spirits in town
who believed that Squire Hayes was mis-.
Judged, that more good was done by him than
told i; and that his cold, stern manner was
foreign to his nature. Many, who knew him
as boy, spoke of his bri right and sunny ways
and genial disposition. There was mystery
about the man which the elderly gossps used
to whisper to each other, as they nodded over
their knitting by the warm winter fires; !;
how, when young man. he loved and court
ed beautiful girl in distant parish, and
even went to bring his bride home, for whom
the old homestead was being re6tted, but sud-
denly the young man returned alone, the car
penters we're sent away and the new part
closed. Soon after, pretty Miss Hannah, the
Squires only sister died, only too soon follow
ed by her broken hearted mother. Poor old
Mrs Hayes, as the neighbors said, had been
an invalid for many years, ever since her
stalwart young husband was brought to her,
mortally wounded by the accidental discharge
of his gun, while on bear hunt among the
mountains. From that time Squire Hayes
was changed man, and as his acres broad
ened and his wealth increased, his manner be-
came sterner until he grew into the crusty
old bachelor that he was.
Several years before my story opens. there
came into the village church, one Sunday,
lady dressed in the deepest mourning and
leading small boy and girl, who, unlike
their mother, stared around with their large
black eyes at the parishioners as they passed
into the church. At noon, when the villagers
stopped to gossip on the church steps, or open
ed their well-filled lunch baskets in the old
church.yard this lady passed OUT and retired
to her newly-made home, small cottage not
far distant. Many were the conjectures raised
as to who she was, and where she came from,
which we're soon answered, for, in their rustic
hospitality, before another Sunday had passed
most of them had called, and had been re-
ceived kindly by a small, sad.faced lady, who
anSWeTeu W tueiT uoHy ti'ti"eu H"0o''o"o
that her name was Sewell. Her husband had
died two years since, and she and her chill
dreu had come to this place to spend their
days, as her income was limited and their
wants would be fewer than in the large city
whence they had retired. "Widder Sewall'
as she was called, soon became a general ia.
vorite throughout the whole village Her
gentleness of manner and her kindness of
heart, her benevolence and many acts OF
mercy, her unassuming ways and her kind
condescension won for her the golden opin'
ions of all.
Widow Sewall did not neglect her children
and in them found her greatest happiness
and we'll she might, for Tom, her son, in spite
of his high spirits and his activity 10 mis-
chieyous pranks, his gaiety and thoughtless'
ness, was noble boy, true to his mother, and
generous to fault. His chosen playmate
was Willie Archer, old Parson Bigelow's
grandson, who, like many minister's sons was
so full of wild doings that the neighbors did
wisely shake their heads and prophecy of him
all manner of evil to come.
One Saturday afternoon, these two worthies
we're rummaging about the old church, which
was opened by Baylis, the grey-headed sexton
for the purpose of cleaning it. The boys
tiring of their usual amusements, started Out
upon tour Of inspection and climbed into
the belfry. After ascending the second floor
of the church, they came upon an old chest
which had hitherto escaped their vigilant eyes
1t was but the work of moment to pull il
out from its dark hiding place, and before the
bows thought of what they were doing, the