The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1880-11-02
Selfrt Story.
The Stone Cutters Story.

less, from long CUSTOM, OI tue SOlemI
significance of the letters he was cutting
in the white marble. The June sun wa
nearly at the end Of the days journey
sinking slowly to rest upon the bosom
of the broaii Atlantic, whose wave'
washed the shores of the little seapor
town of Monk,on. A strangnr, hand
somely dressed in gray, with large, lus
trous brown eyes, came to the fence tha
was around the yard where the stone
cutter worked, and read the lettering, a.!
most completed, upon the tombstone:
HIRAM GoLDBY,
Aged IS, a,ss} f.-:
LOST AT SEA, JANUARY, 1865.
The last six was nearly completed. A
strange pallor gathered for momen
upon the strangers face, aud then he
drew long, deep breath, and said:
"Is not ten years a long time to bs
cutting letters on tombstone, friend ?
"Eh, sir ?"
The stone-cutter looked, shaded hi.
eyes with his brown hand as he turne,l
his face to the setting sun.
This is 1876" was the grave reply,
sand Hiram Goldby has been ten years
under the waves"
"Well, sir, that's the question--is be
there2
"Is he there? Your stone tells US he
is and has been for ten years"
Yes, SIR, so 1t does-so it does. And
yet she has ordered it. She came over
week or so back with a worried look
upon her sweet face that have never
seen anything but patience in the ten
long years, and she said to me: You
may cut a stone, Davy,' she says, 'and
put it up in the church-yard, end don,
want to see it. I'll pay you whatever
you choose to ask, Davy,' she says, but
he's not dead, and don't want a tomb
stone.' "Lor, num- says /, he'd turn
ed up in all these years If he was not
dead But she shook her pretty head,
the pret,iest I've ever seen, sir, and said
she: my heart never told me that be
was dead, Davy, and I'll never believe
it till my heart tells me so"
"His sweetheartp' questioned the
stranger.
"His vile, sir-his loving, faithful
wife, that's had poverty and loneliness
and misery, her full share, and might ha'
bettered herself" -
"How was that?' r.
"Mr. Miles, sir, the richest ;shopo
hereabouts, be waited patiently for seven
long years, rying to win her. Then be
said that She was free even If Hiram
came back" ~,
"Enoch Ardent" muttered the stran-
ger.
"What did you say, slra ?"
"Nothing, nothing. What answer did
the widow make Mr.. Milesp"
".If Hiram's dead said she, 'Pm his
faithful wife, Maybe you are from the
city, sir, and have heard the story of our
Pearl?"
.'What story is that2"
well, sir, it's been told many times,
more particularly in the last year; but
you're welcome to what know OF it,
There, that six is done, aud I'll leave
the Scripture text till morning II you'll
come to the gateway and take seat on
some stones I'll tell you, that is il you
care to hear it."
81 do care" was the grave reply; 81
want very much to hear the story"
"Maybe you're some kin to the Pearl
OF Monkton-that's what they call Mrs,
Goldby hereabouts. lt's matter OF
,hirty.three wears back, sir. that there
was wreck off Monkton rocks, that
you can see from here, sir, now tides
low. Cruel rocks they are, and many q
wreck they've seen, the more the pity.
Yon see them, sir?" =. t.''
81 see them"
"Well, sir. with this one wreck, thirty.
three years ago, there was nothing wash.
ed ashore but bit OF girl-bsby, three
or four years old, with skin like leai
and great black eyes. Hiram Goldby
found her on the rocks. He was boy
of twelve years. strong and tall, and hs
carried the child in his arms to his
mother. You may see the cottage. sir
the second white one on the side of tht
hill.' 81
81 see it,"
"Well, Hiram took the baby there, ant
Mrs. Goldby was the same as mothe
to it--a good woman, God bless her sou
the widow Goldby."
ais she dead, then ?"
"Aye, sir, six years agone. The bSb
was telling you OF, sir, talked foreig
linoo. and was dressed beautiful in ric