The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1880-12-10
A NOBLE SELF-SACRIFICE.
"Who and what was he ?'

''Who and what was he ?''
| was standing in the churchyard of a small
town on the borders of South Staffordshire
one bright Sunday afternoon in April. 1 was
a stranger in that part of the country, and
was passing through the place in the course
of long walk from the larger adjacent town,
to which my business had taken me the day
before. The extensive mining operations of
the last twelve or fifteen years had altered
the little unpretending village materially
and though the quaint old church and some
long and low buildings, suggestive of farms
and homestcads still retained an air of rustic
simplicity, they We're being gradually OBJ
scured and the place itself sophisticated by
the formal rows Of plain ard ugly tenementS
built expressly for the mining population,
which each year was becoming more and
more numerous.
had amused myself by deciphering some
of the Inscriptions on the gravestones-well-
obiteTated by the weather stains and the moss
that time had suffered to find root-hold in the
hoIows Of the lettering-when man, pre-
sumably a miner, in the Sunday clothes pc
culiar to that class, carrying a little child Of
two or three years, and followed by another
SplhcNlidJ Oidti, ottLtu iitlilSclA oll d lisAL
stone, and opened a conversation.
\ civi}ly-spoken man enough, though with
the uncouth accent of the country. IIcadily
accepted the invitation he offered, and we
chatted pleasantly. lie had known the place
many years, he told me, aye, long before it
had grown into the town it now was, when
it was nothing but an humble village, and
when the long grass and ripening corn bow
ed its head to the wind on the spot where the
unsightly engiue-house and tall red chimney
now stood, and where the heaps of Stag and
cinder marked the busy life of the toilers in
the earth below.
That handsome marble monument, he told
me, denoted the last resting g-place of the late
rector, and this broad, massive piece of gran
ite was the tomb Of certain local squire,
popularity known as esquire Jack" who, it
seemed, was much given to horse-racing
cooking and such kindred sports, and who,
being sad ''ne'er-do- well, a thoughtless,
reckless fellow, but withal good -natured and
easy going, was, as such gentry not unfre-
quently are, the most popular member OF his
family.
As my new acquaintance pointed out these
objects and others, which he thought, [ sup
pose, would interest me, he had risen from
his seat, and we had strolled leisuIcly through
the church yard. 1t was in corner, and
rather in hollow, that, before an humble
mound of green turf, and decked with the
pretty spring flowers, carefully planted in
the form Of cross we both, as of one accord,
paused. 1t had not any gravestone, but only
piece of wood supported by two short up
rights. On this were roughly carved, as if
done with pocket knife, these two words
Fighting J oe."
That is a strange inscription to put over a
mans grave | said and then added, "Who
and what was e?''
The man seated himself on a stone near by,
and was silent for few seconds. He. had
set down the little child he had been carrying,
and the two little things attracted by the
bright flowers, had found their way to the
mound and were about to gather them
"Here, you mustn't touch them flowers, -
he said, and, taking a hand of each, led them
/ away.
''WeH, mate" he then went on to say tc
me, in reply to my question. Il don't right
/ ly know who or what he was. lie was q
! stranger down here, and neither me nor my
} mates ever heard tell where he came from ol
who he was. When this here pit, Fenton's
/ pit we call it. was first worked we had but
/ few hands hereabouts, and men as could
work had no call to wait long for job, and
( got good wages as we'll Most of the hand.
were from StaffoTdshire, but we never know
I ed where Joe came froIs, and don't know
+ as we asked, and p'raps he wouldn't told Il:
/ if we had. He was quiet and lonely.lke
and said but little-that is when he was al
( right but when he had drop to drink. a:
mayDe on a Saturday night, when he hat
/ gotten all his wages, Of all the hands [ eve
: see to swear, spend his money, wrestle o.
( fight, there wasn't one like Fighting Joe ."
''And hence his name, l suppose >" l ask
/ ed. "And of course it IS She old story agai1
drink, a quarrel, 4 fght, and violen
death though | cannot understand, in tha
case, the evident care that is bestowed on tn,
/ poor fellows tomb-such as it IS.
/ 'sNo. sir" the man said, grayely, after
moments pause mot quite all that. A VI
/ olent death, yes; and such death as ] pray
I God might ne'er happen to the worst of us
( but it wasn't drink, nor a quarrel, nor a tigh
/ with another man that brought him to Il. |
was more the other way, poor Iad-more tht
! other way
( The rough fellow beside me said this will
a gentleness of tone and manner that wa
sufficiently out of keeping with his appear
ance to excite some degree of curiosity, anC
1 told him l should like to learn more of tn,
story
] "It's not much as such As YOU might care