The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1877-06-09
For The Cecil VIII:
THE GLORY OF TOD TOMPKINS.
BY IONAD.

1t came at last. Tod knew it would He
had waited for it in patient expectancy for
thirty odd yearS-this GROWING glory of
his life. He had INDUCED his playful fancy
iii little capers around, as it were, in home
lots, by discoursing to the "boys" a little
on Winter evenings around the rusty stove
in the store at the Corner" But other
wise he had held a rein on his FESTIVE i'm
agination, and waited in solemn faith that
this hour of his existence would surely ar
rive, and come when it would, Tod felt
that he was prepared for it. So it came,
as | have said, at last, in the shape of
lean and hungry reporter for Baltimore
papar.
Tod was hoeing in his garden, one pleas
ant Summer evening, when this apparition
appeared to him, leaning over the pales.
In feeble voice he called to Tod and
announced his business, which was, he said,
'to make few inquiries concerning the
neighborhood, in view of writing it up
for his paper, the editor hoping thereby to
increase his circulation in that region, etc,
ETC., and give satisfaction to all parties,
and not make anybody mad Tod felt as
if he had been struck with lightning. He
felt that crisis had come. He dropped
his hoe from his trembling hand; he dared
not trust himself to speak, but silently
beckoned him into the garden and pointed
to a rustic seat under pear tree. Tears
of Joy stood in Tod's eye; he pulled off
his waistcoat; he rolled up the sleeves of
his wooden shirt; he wiped the Precipitation
from his forehead with a greasy handker-
chief, and he went for that news-hungry
reporter in this wise:
"Some historical "reminiscences, ell, of
this region? Well, you see that old chest
nut tree over yonder in the hollow: Lord
Baltimore used to come up there and get
chestnuts most every Fall. I've heard the
old man say over and over agin. He'd
sail up the bay as far as Turkey Pint, and
there he'd leave his sloop and walk up to
this chestnut tree. He didn't mind little
tramp of twenty miles bit; he was a gay
old lark, and used to leave his wife at home
and make the old gals around here believe
he was single, and hug 'em and kiss 'em
like forty nine. Once he brought old Bill
Penn with him. Bill wore a shad- belly
coat and broad brimmed hat, and said
thee and thou but I've heard my
granny say the old cub was real nice, and
thrashed the tree for 'em, and then got
down. But he didn't git quite down. I'm
ahead of my yarn little. He got caught
on a limb an hung there, an he couldn't
git down nor up, an old Cal Baltimore, he
said he'd shoot the first man that went to
help him out of that tree; he'd got into
the scrape an let him git out jest the best
way he could. Then he SHE'D two or three
stones at old Bill and made off to have the
Mason an Dixon's line fixed up, while old
Bill wasn't around to interfere. An my
granny, she says how as ole Penn hung in
that chestnut tree three days, an come
near starvin to death, an it would we been
n Il chau IF ha baI f,1r ha haH In do
his treaty with the Injuns, nor got 'em paid
fur their land, nor nothin' an my granny
had most as much to do with them things
as Penn had, you see, fur she carried things
to Penn while he hung there in that rather
precarous situation, an all that saved his
life was the Goldfish balls she used to throw
up to him, an he'd open his mouth an
cetch 'em an let 'em roll right down with
out chawin', fur you see he couldn't make
much out at chawin' on account of a limb
workin' into his upper jaw during the time
he hung there. Well, old Queen Elizabeth,
she got to hear about it, an it made her
awful mad, an over she come to see if 1t
was so. But ole Penn had worked himself
loose by this time, an jast got down when
the Queen come pantin' an BLOWN up, an
she an ole viii embraced a little, an the
Queen staid all night an slept in that ole
L
thatll do fur one paragraph, will it? Well,
it maynt be all exactly jest as Pve told it
to you but its Jest what granny used to
tell ME, an she was remarkable truthful
woman
"Who lives i'll that mansion on the hill
over there? An all fired mansion, amt it ?"
erich? Well, | guess he is rather; an
proud; Jehosaphat. talk about your aristo-
Gratis; there Amt no touch to them Smythe's
in this land of Columbia, the home of the
brave. My mother says how the ole man
was took out of the poor house, in his
infant tenderness, an bound out to ole man
Ross, an before he was sixteen, he got too
many Almost fur the ole man, an he sent
him adrlft, an he went away an pretty
soon he come prospectin' aroun' these parts,
wantin' to buy a farm, an ole Ross was
about gone to the dogs, an he buys his
farm fur most nuthn. He Joined the
church, an got so kind to the poor that he
let 'em be buried on his farm, instead of
buying lots in the cemetery, an pretty soon
it leaked out that he was President of a
stock company fur manufacturin' soap in
the city, an the way that man did make
money was caution. He used to keep his
sou Ben, him as lives in the fine house now,
a trampn' greenbacks down in an ole cave
under the barn fur week at a stretch.
Well, after while, some of the poor folks
buried on ole Smythe's farm gifts a little up
in the world an goes to dig up their rela-
tions, an move em to the cemetery, but
there wasn't any relations there; Smythe
had dug 'em up jist after burial an con-
verted 'em into soap fat, an that was the
way he got so darned rich in SIGH short
time. Why, when that ole man died, an
they come to lay him out, he was jist COW
cred wish greenbacks, sewed fast to his
hide. Sir, the Smythes has deal of fam
lily pride, an no wonder"
The pleased reporter stad three days as
the guest of Tod, and gathered many SINH
lar paragraphs from his friend Tod. A