News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1885-05-07

J From the Detroit Free Press.1
The old clock down stairs began to
strike midnight as he started up. The
wind was making the old farmhouse
rock and tremble, and the powder-like
SNOW was driving in through every
creVice. The wife slept undisturbed.
but the old farmer was nervous and
wakeful,
Farmer Johns, are you awakeP"
IL was voice which he had never
heard before. It sounded close at
bis bedside, and yet, as he looked
ABOUT the room, fairly lighted by the
cold winter moon shining in through
the window, he saw nothing but familiar
objects.
81 am your accuser |" continued the
voice "I am witness against you |"
"What have I done?" gasped Farmer
Johns.
"Last fall you took a lad from the
poorhouse-had one bound to you
according to law"
"Sartin, sartin, and it was a poor
speculation fur me. The boy hain't
Armed his salt"
"You broke him down in the harvest
field, and when you knew that he was
i'll you refused him medicines The
boy hasn't seen well day for three
months"
eyes, but boys are great shirks.
How'd 1 know whether he was sick or
playing off on me?"
"You are lying to your conscience,
Farmer Johns How has that boy
Jared for provisions and clothes?"
"Hain't he got some of my old
clothes on this very minnit p protested
the farmer. "They is full O. holes and
patches, in course, but am I going to
take a boy outer the poorhouse and
dress him in broad-cloth? Sposen he
does shiver ittle-shiverin' don't hurt
anybody! He gifts huff to eat, reckon
-leastwise all he Arms. / amt goin' to
feed nobody on sweet-cake p
"Think of his sleeping in that cold
and dismal garret such night at this p
whispered the accuser.
GAN his own faultr' replied the
farmer, 81 gin him chamber by him
self, but he kept coughing and groanin'
till couldn't sleep. Put it all on to git
sympathy, but he made mistake. Men
the old woman worked for what we've
got, and others must do the same"
"A straw bed-a ragged quilt, and the
night cold enough to chill an OK - &C.
cused the voice.
"Oh pshaw You can't make me be-
lieve the boys of to-day are so much
more tender'n the boys of my time. 1t
hain't healthy fur boys to sleep too
warm. He'll warm up at the wood pile
as soon as daylight comes"
"Farmer Johns, no true Christian can
talk as you do. You have neither mercy
nor charity T.
"Poohi Got lots of It'll And if 1
wasn't Christian man how'd git to be
a deacon in the church ? That hoy is a
heap better off n most of 'em."
"His body is black and blue from the
pounding you have inflicted"
"Well, he shouldn't oversleep then"
''You have heart of stone, Farmer
Johns. If that boys dies you will be
accused at the judgment seat of his
murder T.
''Nonsensel Nobody feels any more
pity for poor folks than do, and if
Tom Poorhouse' dies it will be of eat
ing too much"
"This is the oldest patient we have in
the asylum" said the guide, as we halt
ed at the lower end of the ward.
1t was grated door. I looked through
and saw an old man covering in a cor
ner. After moment he rose up and
approached the door and whispered
Sand at daylight 1 called and called
him, but he didn't git up. L went up
with the horse whip to teach him bet
tern to oversleep on me that way, but
Tom Poorhouse was dead on his straw
bed, and the snow had blowed in till it
almost klvered him up.