Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1879-06-05
THETRANSCRIPI'
c. H. DAVIDSON, Editor ssy Proprietor
AUSTIN, MINNESOTA:
THURSDAY MORNING, JUNE S, 1879.
JOHN, THE WOODMAN.
Written for the Transcript,

JOHN, THE WOODMAN.
Written for the Transcript.
There died the other day IN ward 7G
Bellevue hospital, an obscure old ma
who was known on the east side of town
"John, the Wcodman" What other nan
he WAS entitled to, or where he lived, L
one knew and no one knows. He die
by poison selGadministered He refuse
to give his real name or the names of h
relatives, when dying, eighty dollars
money were found in the lining of hi
jacket;-thesc are the simple facts I,
corded IN the newspapers Of May II. an
John the Woodman was buried and fo
gotten. There is nothing very remark
able in this; scarcely day passes will
out Its suicide or attempt at self-destrut
lion, the statistics showing an average O
ten suicides II month in this city, an,
about the same number of unsuccessful
attempts at ttlo de Sc. Yet at first view
should want to get out Of the world. l
was not the pinch IF poverty that h
sought to escape, for he left money be
hind him and he earned IN his humble
calling more than sulficed for his simple
needs; 1t was not i'll health that made
life undesirable anil IN endurablc, tOl
John was lusty and vigorous, scarcely
past his prime, and | have many a time
seen him carrying his bags OF coal and
wood up three or four flights of stairs
without apparent fatigue; an ii prOba-
bly was not that religious zeal or mania
which leads people to sacrince thcmsel-
YES or OtherS-mOStly OlherS-tO secure
felicity in another world, for John the
Woodman did not have much religion to
speak Of. What, then, could be tie mo-
tive for self.dcslruction in his case? l
think it was the sting Of unrequited love.
Of course you laugh, and wonder, as !
do. where in this rough specimen Of hll.
manity, begrimed with coal-dust withou,
and beclOuded with ignorance within,
the tender sentiment could find So deep
"A Judgement and glow in a passion so
consuming that when 1t was rudcly
uuenched his life must 60 out with it. Let
me half draw the curtain IN a few facts
in his later history, and let them tell the
story.
John the Woodman was a German,
speaking English only imperfeclly; he
was apparently about forty. five years ole,
of medium height, roughly built, grizzly
grey beard, and his appearance generally
was in keeping with his calling. Where
he lived IS not known, but he rented a
basement at No.-Avenue, where he
kept little stock Of wood and Goals
which he carried in bags on his shoul-
ders 10 his customers as they required it,
his trade being mostly with the class of
people who live in one or two rooms aid
buy their fuel In small quantities. Among
them was Mrs. B, a widow lady
living at No-street, with her little
boy of four or five years of age. Size is
q woman Of superior e.. ucati0n, speaking
several languages, and although not Il
German, was able 10 speak to John IN his
own tongue; she is good looking, attrac-
tive, and might easily fascinate many a
man Of higher rank than John the Wood
man. She bought her fuel OF John, and
her brilliant black eyes seem to have
lighted flame in his uncouth breast that
showed its warmth In many little atten-
tions, such as an orange or an apple to
the lady's little boy, ana more than
generous quantity of the straightest and
dryest wood to the lady herself. These
llt.le attentions, and sort Of hungry
look in Johns eyes when he regarded
her, led Mrs. B. to suspect that her
" GOODMAN was too much interested in her,
and so one day she casually remarked to
John that she was going 10 be married.
John was black with coaldust, but Mrs
B. tuncitd that pallOr crept over
his face as she turned TO note the effect
of her random shot. "Then l will not
see you any mOre," said John after Il
considera ble silence. 20 yes," said Mrs.
B., you shall bring me coal and
wood when l am married" John wen'
away without saying more. The 1tw
succeeding times that he called in his
rounds he appeared changed; he was
gloomy, went in and out mechanically
and said little. On Wednesday he came
TO take his usual orders and went to tie
room occupied by Mrs. B.. Exactly
what passed between them cannot state,
but John was seen on his knees and
heard to say: why do you haunt me?
I see you always everywhere; l cannot
leave you; please let me touch your dress,
your handkerchief, something that is
yours; you need not be afraid Of me, l
will moi hurt you, will not hurt youw
"Nonsense, 20 away, John, and don't
make tool of yourself,' said Mrs. B.
"be off and fetch my wood" A few
days subsequently the above mentioned
paragraph appeared in the newspapers,
and we knew that John had killed him
self.
have but roughly outlined the facts
attending the tragic ending Of a human
life That they are facts and not fiction
will detract somewhat from the interes,
that would attach 10 them if woven skill
fully into the plot Of novel. This little
drama, half comedy, half tragedy, was
performed here under our eyes, in ordi'
nary, commonplace life, instead of il
Brobdignag, or some other far-nf and un-
known place, and so the romance is
mostly lost. The world laughs and says,
"Anolher fool gone;;" and the theologians
enter his name on the tropical side of
their books and mentally contemplate
him, with more or less complacency,
roasting in hell. How glad am that l
am not a theologian and compelled to
believe, or pretend to believe, that repul-
sive doctrine of eternal punishment, or
that other Calvanistic doctrine Of total
depravity. 1t requires more faith than
has been vouchsafed to me to believe that
this simple-minded old man, with that
great love IN his heart that made an idol
of It's object, who begged only to touch
the hem Of her garment, and being de-
MED that privilege, threw away the life
that was no longer boon to him, was TO-
tally depraved, or that his last rash act
will lie counted against him in the final
rcckOninr though he never 1isned a
prayer before or after. II there is any,
Thing in humanity til at is akin to the d.
vine it is uDsel1sh human love, that ab-
sorblng passion and pure devotion which
seeks only the happiness of its object,
and which, when rebutted, hides itself, if
it must, in the grave. 1t is braver to live
down grief than to escape from it by
hurrying to that undiscovered country
across whose bourne we can only look
with eyes of faith and hope; but when
life to any poor wretch seems uDendur-
able and he gets out of it AMI: appears
unlimely before his God, let US believe
4 tod