Frostburg mining journal., 1882-12-23

no home, and I amt going to live
long. should feel real Obleeged for
any little help to get Along if you might
be so disposed for to Give it. Direct as
abuv if you send. L have heard my
Honored mother say that 'Blud was
thicker than Water, and L expect mabbe
it's SO which is Why take Pen in Hand,
being old and sick and lonesome enuf,
and having hoaps that my neares Rela-
tions will step Forrard to my helping;
anser soon.
"Your afecktionate cousin,
John TURNER"
In due time answers came. Reuel said
he had just gone into q new business !;
times were hard, and he had seven chill
dren, was down with "ague," had bad
luck always, and no money to spare; he
wished well to his cousin, whom he had
"heard tell of" but hadn't the means to
help him otherwise.
John Turner closed the letter with q
hard smile.
can't got no less n six good and law
full reasons for not helpin' this lame dog
over stile. He'll find the was six too
many !"
Samantha, Mrs. Bliss, was an invalid /;
her nerves forbade any agitation on her
part. Her husband wrote the letter, and
said their social position and the ext
gencies of his bllsinessleft them no mar
gin for charities, even if he could feel
sure that the letter in question was from
the real John Hollis Turner, which he
could not candidly say he did.
A red flush passed over the readers
face as he laid down this epistle.
"Darned cool Well, it takes all sorts
O. folks to make world, and these ant
my sort, that's certain"
James was a minister in one of the
largest cities in Maine. He wrote let
ter of spiritual advice to his cousin,
urged him to prepare for death, and then
mentioned casually that he never gave
money except to organized charities
and he advised John to apply for admis-
sion into the State Hospital at Lake
view.
This letter was read through without
word but darker shadow than ever
lay on the strong, coarse face of the
reader-it seemed as if the sky above
llul DluCheueu WIFI tllC ItllcCtlOu VI
earth's heartlessness.
Loren Blake never answered his corls-
ms epistle, if he ever got it; he was liv-
ing an idle life in the heart of Florida,
under the pretext of raising oranges,
being what his New England ancestry
would call "shif'less cretIlr," without
means to be charitable even if he had the
will.
Hitty, who earned her living by teach
ing the district school in West hartford,
going home one cold November night
from the little, red school l-house on Brandy
Hill, stopped in at the "store," and took
from the post-office-which occupied
corner among plows, calicoes, molasses,
turnips and garden tools-her letter from
John Turner. As she read it her lovely
eyes filed with tears. "Poor old man"
she whispered, and, thinking over old
times, all that her mother had told her
about "Cousin jack came back wildly.
The gay, kind-hearted, mischievous, af-
fectionate boy, always ready to help and
wait on little aunty," had been prom
inent figure in the stories Samantha Blake
used to tell her baby girl, and Hitty's
tender heart ached to think of him as an
old, suffering, poverty-stricken and dying
man. She came to certain resolutions
that night before Mat Hallett made his
usual evening visit, which We're laid be-
fore him for approval, as was his due
for Mat and Hitty were to be married on
New Years Day, and in hartford Savings
Bank lay fifty hard earned dollars laid up
from Htty's small salary to buy her
wedding clothes; and Mat, who was a
carpenter, spent his over hours in repair
ing and shingling very small house
with bit Of garden behind it, where
they meant to begin their home life
without any wedding celebration, or
guests or journey.
Mat, want you to read letter
got to-day" said Hitty, as she gave her
lover his usual welcome when he entered
Miss Platts tiny parlor, given over to
the school-ma'am for courtin'."
SO Mat sat down and read it.
"Poor old fellow" he said. 81 wish
we could do something for him, Hitty."
"Well, Mat, we can. I've been think
ing. Mother set by Cousin Jack dread
fully when they was little. She thought
the world of him. and 1 feel as though
she would help him, if she hadn't but n
cent to do it with. Besides" she added,
shyly, coloring like wild rose up to the
dark waves OF brown hair above her
broad, white brow; we-I-well, it
seems as though we were so happy, Mat,
we had ought to do something for folks
that amt; don't you think so?"
Mat looked at her with his heart in his
eyes. He did not say anything except
"Well the shibboleth of New England;
but his eyes spoke so plainly Hitty turned
away a little, she was too shy to like even
silent worship. She went on hurriedly:
"You see, there's that front room; we
meant to have it for sittin' room. Now,
why can't we fix up a bed in it and sit in