Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1886-02-05
OLD PAUL.
The Mysterious Room, and What
It's Opening Revealed.

vi OpoAAAS
Old Paul is dead, and who cares? No
body. For Old Paul was a sloven. a
glutton and a drunkard. and when he
died the world said good radiance from
poor rubbish. Still, Old Paul made a
most respectable appearance as he
passed through the village on his way
to the graveyard, the most respectable
he had made in it for twenty years.
For, instead of his broken-down horse,
in a harness tied together with strings,
Old Paul was drawn by stately white
horses in rich tr&ppings, and instead of
his crazy old wagon, with rickety
wheels and splintered shafts, Old Paul's
carriage, though for some reason few
like to ride in It, was in every way re-
spectacle. Nor was the poor old man
visible. with his slovenly dress and
bloodshot eyes and burning face, and
grizzled, shaggy beard. for Old Paul
had a driver, and rode inside. and in
stead of the crowd of rascally boys that
were wont to follow him, deeming it
rare sport to see humanity sunk so low,
Old Paul was followed by a long and
most respectable funeral traiu, for he
had many relations, though no friends,
and they were all most respectfully
dressed in mourning, though in all the
sable crowd that stood around the
open grave ] saw not one quivering lip
or falling tear as the first earth clods
fell upon the cOtin's lid.
+, Old Paul's wife left him neal twenty
years ago, and the world excused her
for it, for how, said the world, could
any woman live with such a brute?
But old Aunt Prudence shook her head
1T this of-hand verdict Of the world.
For she remembered that he was once
young, dashing Paul, and Polly Jones,
proud and handsome a. she was, met
him more than half way. as the gossips
said fifty years ago, for he was rich and
she was poor.
':lAnd if the truth must be known"
said Aunt Prudence, knocking the
ashes from her pipe and lowering her
voice to a confidential tone, as if
afraid of being overheard by some ten
ant of the graveyard, "they du say"
forgetting that the tongues once busy
with such gossip, all except her own,
had long been silent in the grave,
.'they du say that Paul married for
beauty and Polly for money, and you
know, as old Billy Balm down at the
%poorhouse says, life's wagon will 90
hard when there is no love to grease
the wheels"
Yes, gold had dazzled and blinded
the one and beauty had dazzled and
blinded the other, but they soon walked
up, the one to the fact that for gold
she had bound her life to a coarse and
brutal nature, and the other to the fact
that beauty, like frostwork glittering
i'll moonlight, may be brilliant and at
the same time freezing cold.
''How shockingly they have abused
them pans,' said Old Paul's wife the
day after he was buried, on returning
to the house that had been her home
for more than thirty years, where her
children had all been born and most of
them had died.
Old Paul was, indeed, q brute, and
he was well mated with one who,
under such circumstances, could think
of such petty trash.
But three short weeks had passed
when heard that Old Paul's wife was
sick, the next day worse and the third
day dead, and she passed over the same
road drawn by the same richly capari-
soned horses in the same much dreaded
carriage, to be laid by Old Paul's side.
One day l CHANGED to take a walk
down by Old Paul's house. The spring
was in its glory. The forests were
clad in richest verdure. The apple
trees were in full bloom and filled the
air with fragrance, while the bees
feeding upon their blossoms filled il
with a dreamy murmur The corn
was just peeping from the ground and
the rye fields began to wave in the
passing breezes. The meadows were
vocal with
The bobolink's clear thrilling strain
OF liquid sweet.
The ground birds were singing in the
hedges and the robins from the trees
that overhung the road.
As | approached the house l noticed
horses tied to the posts and groups of
men standing about the doors, and
heaps of old furniture scattered here
and there, which reminded me that it
was auction day.
1t was a large, old-fashoned square
house. with two ancient elms growing
before it, spreading their giant branches
far and wide.
In their thick, damp shade the moss
had accumulated year after year until
the whole front had grown quite green.
There was everywhere an air of dilapi-
dation and neglect. On all sides there
were broken boards, rag-stuffed win
dows, rickety fences and fallen gates,
Proclaiming the habitation of the
drunkard.
On looking around 1 found every