Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1877-07-28
THE BOY HERO.


1t was on Saturday morning, the
fifteenth of December, that Paul
Iavere sat by a low, smOuldering
fire in the only apartment of the cot
that had any furniture in it. He
was only thirteen years of age,
though his face had an older look.
There were lines of care upon his
high brow, and the neither lip had
peculiar compression unusual in one
of his wears. He was small in stat
ure, but with much nerve, and a de-
ciSiOn of character that manifested
itself in every look and movement.
His eyes were bent on the embers
now, and he was in deep thought.
Near him, in Il great armchair,
sat his mother. She was pale and
thin, and the low, deep, hollow
sounding cough that ever and anon
burst from her throat, told too plain
IN there was need of a physician.
She was not over five and thirty,
though, like her boy, she looked
older. The lines of care and sorrow
were deep and long.
The furniture of the room consist
ed of a small table, two common
chairs beside the one in which the
widow sat, and one small bed. The
rest of the house was empty. Nearly
all the furniture they once possessed
had been sold by the husband and
father before he died. and what few
drTTCTpS ng I15ICI TcTU, bT5IuO JIICoc III
this room, had been sold to pay the
rent. OF ornament there WAS none
unless we notice the old muSket
that hung ON two wooden brackets
over the door. That would have
been sold long before, had not Mrs.
IaVere chung to it with all her power
of entreaty and prayer. 1t had been
her fathers muSket, and he had car
ried it bravely and hOnOrably
through the blOOd-stained fields of
Trenton, Princeton, Brandywine
and Germantown and when dying
he gave it to his daughter. The
poor woman chung to that as the last
mementO of her better days.
paul" spoke the mother, in a
weak, faint tone, sis there no more
wood ,"
al can easily get some, mother,
when you are able to spare me. |
have some gathered up by the road
side near the pond"
"ThCn you may go now. / shall
get along very well until you come
back" a
So the boy put on his cap, and
started off with the sled. He was
gone nearly an hour, and when he
returned ne bore wood enough to
last the rest of the day, and during
the morrow. A better fire was soon
kindled, and then Paul moved out
the little table, and placed a loaf of
bread ON it. He then made some
tea, and when that was done asked
his mother if she would eat.
"This is all" he said. mot an
other crumb of food is there in our
house. But let us eat; / can beg
more. | am used to it now"
This was bitterly spoken, this last
sentence, and the widow looked for
the moment as though she would
chide her son for it. But the look
quickly passed away, for she remem-
bcrcd that for many weary, weary
weeks ne had supported her.
It was toward the middle of the
afternoon that the door of the cot
was opened, and two men entered.
one Of them was NOtwOrth, the
owner of the dwelling. lie was a
tail, slim man, with sharp, angular
features, thin, griZZled hair, small
red eyes, a large mouth, and mar
row, contracted brow. He was a
hard, cruel man, unfeeling in the
extreme, and seemed to know of
but one incentive to actiOn-and the
incentive was money. The other
man was NOtwOrth's tOOl-a stout,
hurly clown, ready to do anything
his master babe him, SO long as his
wages were paid.
"WCll, Mrs. I4aVerC, the other
week has gone, and now / want my
house" Thus spoke the landlord,
i'm a harsh, imperative tone.
"Oh, good sir" the widow re-
turned, claSping her thin, white
hands, and raising them toward
him, Il am not able to move now.
let stay here vet while longer"
''jGn you pay me the rent ,"
asked NOtWOrth, harshly.
Not now; but perhaps Paul can
find some work.
And why hasn't he found work
already"
Because he could not leave me,
sir. / have been very sick, and
NbNAANl Z NAlNNA hAAN III His dtlCIl-
ton. oh, sir, let us stay"
"NO; not another hour! l am not
to support all the paupers in the
town! | have family who wish
TO move i'm here at once. You can
go to the pOOr-house ~
"Alas we must come to that soon!
/ had hoped we might escape that
i had hoped it for my poor boys
sake. l had hoped that health might
come back to me, and that then my
boy and myself might both work.
Oh, we could pay you then! But |
am not able to now; lam very sick.
Nonsense! you're well enough to
90 to the pOOr-hOuse. Ihave brought
INV man on purpose to help you
there; he will haul you on sled
part of the way"
HBut, sir-tha pOOr-house Is tive
miles off! Oh, could not live to
reach it in this cold weather! Wait
until it IS .warmer-until l am
stronger. on, will try to get well
as soon as / can!
81 tell YOU / won't wait another