Northern tribune. [volume] (Cheboygan, Mich.) 1875-1885, 1881-05-28

Il
ther-bOttOm chair that had belonged to
my grandfather, he asked me to exchange
with him, which was very glad to do,
Not long after chest of drawers, that
was my grandfather's found its way
back to its old place, together with the
quaint, brass-mOunted mirror that al
ways hung over it. So, that, at last, the
room looked very much as it did before
we re-arrange it with so much care and
labor.
John and had quite a laugh over it,
but so long asst suited its present Oc-
cupant we did not mind, and it seemed to
suit him completely. He spent much of
his time reading. No one called to see
him, or wrote to him, though he received
quantities of papers and books.
i 1t was Margie that first suggested that
we invite him to take tea with us one
day, when we had some unusual delica-
cv-early Strawberries, think.
He must be lonely, poor mani perhaps
ne doesn't have enough to eat? He spoke
ABOUT being poor you know.
After this he dropped in occasionally
evenings, bringing some new magazine
or paper, and reading to US as we sat at
work. Finally 1t became an established
custom with him to take tea with us two
or three times week; frequently invit-
ing himself, though we always knew he
was coming by the advent of the market
boy with liberal supply of provisions,
all of the best quality.
This troubled Margie's tender con-
science, and she demonstrated with him
one day.
at was wrong" he said, with grave
shake of the head. am poor man and
ought to be more prudent"
But he continued on the same way.
and we finally got so used to his oddities
OF speech and action as to think little of
them.
He and John were apparently on the
best of terms, and yet he was always
finding fault with him to me.
80 think of his taking the entire
charge of his mother, when she has other
children, and sending money to his
brothers widow besidep he said to me |
one day. He is poor man and always |
will be-"
Now / could never endure the slightest |
reflection upon John, and defended him |
with spirit and indignation that SEEM
ed to amuse Mr.. Thomas not little.
with thy pretty face and ways thee |
ought to do better, Ruth" he resumed,
when paused for want of breath. "Not
but what John is good, but he is poor. 1 |
heard that thee refused Mr.. Hart, who is |
millionaire. What made thee do such |
a foolish thing, child?"
Because l don't love Mr.. Hart and I do |
love john"
The silence that followed made me
glance up at my companion, who had
now turned toward the door. It was
m VC II oil NOT %I,o{
the eyes were full of tears.
Mr.. Thomas generally used the plain
est language, almost invariably so when |
speaking to me, and until / saw that he |
was regular attendant at the st. Luke's |
church, | supposed him to be a Quaker.
When l alluded to this impression, he |
said:
Il was brought up in that faith; and |
it comes back to me now that am grow
ing old, and the end is near"
1t was nearer than l thought. He had |
been feeble all winter, though it seemed |
more like the gradual loss of strength |
than actual disease. In the spring time
he was knocked down by a runaway
horse, sustaining some internal injury |
from which he never recovered. John
and L took turns in nursing him; it was
pleasant, afterward to remember that he
wanted for nothing.
John, Margie and were there. He
had been lying in stupOr for some
time. now he reused himself and began
to talk, startling us not little by his
strange expressions and illusions.
Il was born in this rGOm," he said,
glancing around; "and shall die here!'
Thinking his mind was wandering, l Il
laid my hand on him gently.
He smiled as he looked at me.
Thee hast my mothers name, Ruth,
and her kind heart as we'll, but thy eyes
are like thy fathers. He has been here
thanking me for providing for his or
phan girls. This was our room when we
were boys, thee knows. Dear old JOEL
before the dawning of another day we
shall meet"
John and locked at each other in
wondering awe. Two years before
stood by my fathers dying bed; was it
the strange mysterious shadow that
made their faces look so strangely alike?l
The dying man continued:
Thy father and were brothers. Did
he never speak to thee of his brother
Tom, who fOrsOOk home and country be-
cause a girl, as false as fair, broke her
plighted trOth to wed richer suitOr?
You have both been very kind to the
poor old man who came to you as a
stranger. have not forgotten it, as the
papers in my desk will show"
An examination of the papers alluded
to not only proved that my poor uncle
spoke truly, but that he died in the pos
session of bonds and stocks to the
of twenty thousand dollars; to
be divided equally-sO ran the few lines
that c0mDriSad his wili-hatwpan his
two nieces, Ruth and Margret Gray.
Of course, John and / married. His
mother and Margie lived with us, and a
if h. u Gx,I