The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1884-03-25
NUMBER Z.


The Judge and bis wife urged Hink-
~ to visit them at their home, but on
mis- point he was obdurate.
DO, Brother William" the Judges
rife pleaded.
ats good Of you, ma'am, to call the
Ikes OF me brother, but l hain't. He's
born gentleman, the jedge Is. aud /
lain't going to have the kids think they
re anything to such an ornary chap as
am. No nam, | bain't going to do
lirt to your little kids"
"But they know, William
"No, ma'am, they don't know; don't
tell 'eun their dads crooked on that
ever sence he lost hfs leg al Chlcka-
He jist thinks the fellar what
histed him off the fields his brother,
that's all. and that's vat tells 'em, and
it's all mistake"
As the months rolled by aBill'sn sp-
pearance improved wonderfully, and
when the marks OF dissipation had all
gone out of his face his resemblance to
the Judge was striking.
/ thiok it was the tenth month a'ter
"Bill" was placed on farm he was per.
suaded to enter drinking saloon. He
had not been there long before some one
entered and remarked, "Tne Judge IL
standing outside"
Instantly "Bilr' jumped up aud .rosis-
ed out OF the rear door; rapidly hurry
ing through aa alley into the street. he
turned his face toward the farm. v
A laborer who was eating bis noon.
day meal under the shelter OF an osage
orange hedge afterward told me that be
saw "Bill" striding rapidly along the
road beating his sides and his breast
with his clenched fst. When nearly op.
posite the laborer sBilp paused.
wat you been doin' now, you onsry
scamp
.Nawthin'i'
Yes you have, you bad un, you.-
You've been vexin' the jedge and bring
ing sorrow to his beautiful wife-and
finging more dirt on the kids. Wat will
l do to your
sNawthin' r
Yes will. Stand up there. Ten
davs, solitary, do vou hear p
Then sBill' strobe on chuckling. Ten
days, solitary; bread and water
A few days later the farmer hurried
to town and told the judge there was
something the matter with sBill;' be Was
locked in his room and would use moth
ing but bread and water. The Judge had
already heard the laborer's story.
WATT he said to the farmer.
The farmer waited, but was very IN.
easy. At the end often days Bill came
out OF solitary He looked at the
bright sunshine, opened his mouth and
filed his lungs with the fragrance OF the
meadows, and he never was seen In sa-
loon afterward. He looked uDeasilg at
the Judge when be came out to the farm
on the day following his emergence from
his self imposed punishment. but the
judge made no sign, and Bill grew hap
py In the belief that he and bis wife did
not know.
The succeeding ten years of Hink-
ley's life we're quiet and uneventful. He
became favorite in his neighborhood,
especially with little children, whom he
never tired of bearing about on his broad
shoulders, and to all their questions,
"Are you the judges brother p his ans.
wer was invariably: No, in course not;
be got that kink in bis head cause his
ted him off the field at Chickamaugy.'
On the evening Of September 19, 1879.
'Bill' walked away from the farm toward
the town. A week had passed since he
sat under the tree in the rear OF his
brother's house. A mile from the town
the road makes sharp turn along the
brink OF Darrow's Bluff. Arrived at the
tnrn OF the road, the laundering Of
horses hoofs beating rapidly upon the
hard road fell upon his ear. Instantly
it flashed npon him, the horse was run
ming away, and be knew, if not checked,
that the beast would be unable to make
the sharp turn with the road, and must
GO over the bluff to destruction. The
horse was not thirty yards away, and
rushing furiously onward with neck dis
tended and head down. HinkIey ran to-
ward the center of the road, and as the
beast neared him be sprang at i,s head.
Fortunately he caught the bit; the horse
plunged forward few yards, reared,
struck out with his fore feet, and after
brief struggle, man and horse fell to the
earth. 10 few minutes help was at
hand, and sBill' was found lyiae across
the horses head. Two young girls who
occupied the carriage leaped from It and
j ,ined the group who we're lifting sBill.'
When they saw his face both exclaimed:
sOh. Uucle William. are you hurtP
'Wus it your Thank God; but I
hain't their uncle, remember, gentlemen,
l hain't,' Hinkley murmured, and slipped
out of the hands which held him and fell
on the road 10 faint. Tenderly he was
borne to Judge lhrie's home. He en-.
tered it for the first time bruised aad
battered in saving his brothers two
daughters from certain death. Surgeons
came and shook their heads: ribs crush
ed, lungs perforated with Fragments OF
bone, and spine injured. There il no
nope, so tney saId.
On the evening Of the seventh day AZ
ter the accident the Judge and his wife
we're seated by the sufferers bedside.
sAnd there are no tramps there,
ma'am 2" he feebly questioned.
mo, William!'
A few moments he lay silent, Mrs..
Ihrie tenderlv wiping away the froth
which ocaad from his lips.
'May touch the kids, ma'am, before
I quit the trampr He looked eagerly
luto her eyes.
The children came, the two daughters
whom he bad preserved from DEATH
He touched each Of them gently, rever.
emily, with the tips Of his fingers, rs ons
touches sacred thing. The children
bent over and kissed him, then, In obe-
dience to q glance from their mother,
they retired from the room.
4 hain't been all useless, has I,
ma'smr whispered the dylngsman.
The mother, thinking of-the peril her
children escaped and the price paid for
it. replied through her sobs: But for
you We would be childless, dear brother.
For moment the sufferer looked si.
lently and wistfully into the tender eyes
bent over him, then he murmured:
'It's good OF YOU, ma'am, good Of