American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1878-05-18
OVER THE FENCE.


1t was a shabby old mansion in
shabby old thoroughfare, which had
been a fashionable street in its day, but
was any thing else now. Grocery shops
and junk shops had invaded it. The
square, white-painted, green-blinded
dwellings, with rallied roofs and pilas-
tered front doors, through which decor
Gus worthless in ruffles and bob. wigs had
once gone in and out, shorn of their
prestige now, and Invested of shining
knobs and knockers, were turned into
tenement-houses of the poorer sort.
Only the magnificent double row of
elms, which had been the glory of the
street in its prime, remained intact to
deck its decadence. The towering SPLEEN
dor of their green masses rustled in the
salt air now as then, but mournfulness
mingled with the rustic. Perhaps
who knows-the elms were sorry for
the deserted old street. 1t is not easy
always to fathom what lies at the heart
of things, trees or men.
The shabby old mansion had belong
ed to General Wesson, less conspicuous
in history than in the affections of his
townsfolk, who to do him honor had
called the street by his name-Wesson
Street. His residence, once the finest
in the neighborhood, had still this ad-
vantage over its dilapidated compeers,
that it retained its old-time garden, a
large square Enclosure laid out in formal
box-edged beds and walks. This gar
den had the odd appearance of having
sunk slightly during some CONFUSION of
nature, for its surface lay some five feet
below the level of the street, which had
been "filled in" 1t was walled on
three sides. Peeping over the low fence
which topped the wall, a passer-by
could look down into the very heart of
gooseberry bushes and peony clumps
The wall itself was a tangle of honey
suckle, ivy, and brier roses, and alto
sether the garden had a sweetness still,
though its paths had run to weeds, and
lines of wet linen tapped over the rose
circle which had been the pride Of
Madame NELSON'S heart almost a hum
drsd years ago.
So long past, so forgotten, were the
traditional dignities of the old house, SO
poor and decayed was its present SEEM
ing, that people experienced shock
of surprise-almost indignation when
told that the Moravian Society had
bought the property for a chapel and
parsonage. "What! that old thingp''
they cried. But the thrifty Moravians
went their way without minding much
what people said. They had little money
to expend, and righteous horror of
debt. The old place was cheap; they
could make it do, they thought. So a
little army of work-people deployed up
on the premises, and presently all was
changed. The ground-floor, Invested of
partitions, became a large plain meet
ing-room. The second floor was re-
served for the pastors dwelling. There
was much scrubbing and whitewashing,
new paint and plaster; blinds were re-
hung, lettering chimney rebricked,
the fences mended. Last of all arrived
a CARLOAD of benches, another of furni-
ture, and Pastor Lubke and his family.
The neighbors, watching, saw them go
IN; iirst the grave old pastor leading a
little boy, then long file of girls of
graduated heights, all clad in black,
worn, it was whispered, in memory OF
their mother, who had died a few months
before. The beds, chairs and tables
seemed scanty plenishing for so many,
and the lookers-on wondered how they
managed; but nobody found out, for the
Lubkes were quiet and reserved, saying
little or nothing of their affairs, but
simply taking things as they were, and
settling into the new home without dis
cussjpn or words.
All these things to watch did seriously
incline MIR. Erasmus Stockton-a Young
man who, for his misfortune, had little
to do just then except look out of the
window. His lodging next door com
manded view of the long south side of
the "Wesson house," as the neighbors
still called it, and of the whole garden,