The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1886-09-21
Srltrt shr:1'.
Rsaped What They SoWsd.
~ NORRIS REDwISG.

1
~ NORRIS REDwING.
1t is the story of an unnatural
crime that / have to tell, but truth,
that is stranger than fiction,is alone
my apology for giving it to the read
CT.
Squire Emerson was very sick, and
bis physician had told him that he
was not long for this world. The
sick man at once summoned law
yer and two Of his friends to appear
at his bedside that he might make
his will.
1t so happened that was one OF
the friends that came at the old
Squirc's call. He lay upon his bed,
thin and pallid, with sunkcn eyes
and hollow cheeks. He had been
such a jolly old fellow, so healthy
and tough and portly when l saw
him, but six months before, the
change shocked me deeply.
The room was small, resembling
the usual sick-room in many partic-
ulars-thc stand with its innumera-
bic vials, glasses and cups of medi-
cine, the w-drawn curtains and
sombcr hues, all tended to remind
one of gloom, disease and death.
Here, ON a stormy autumn even
ing, three men and a woman were
gathered to take cognizancc of the
last wishes of the old Squire.
While Quill sat writing at the sick
ones dictation / surveyed the room
and the faces gathered there, the
face of the woman in particular.
She was. rather pretty, and could
not have lived beyond thirty years,
which would leave her at least three
decades behind the Squire in the
race of life.
Plainly dressed, even to slmplici-
ty, with subdued gentleness and a
general sadness of expression Incl
dent upon the situation, | regarded
Mrs. Emerson with considerable fa-
vor. ! was soon, however, to change
my opinion.
II give and bcqeath. all my real
and personal possessions to Ardclia,
my wife, without any reservation OF
consideration whatsoever"
The Squire's deep low voice, husky
from very wcakness,soundcd gloomy
enough in that shadowcd room.
1t was not the sonnd of that
voice, but the import of the words,
that caused me to start and bite my
lip.
Less than a year married, with a
beautiful daughter living, who had
been driven away from home by q
step mothers unkindness, it seemed
hard to cut that only child off from
every part of an estate valued al
over $40, 900 at the very least,
II was the old story over again
As a friend of long standing ! ven
turcd faint remonstrance.
"Edna cannot have a cent, not 8
cent" artieulated the old man. "Sht
has defied me and misused Ardelia.
/ turned to glance at the wife.
She stood at the bedside and ia
king the old mans hand, bent low
and while tears glittered in her eyes
said:
Il forgive Edna, John. Surely
you can do the same
Were those tears, that quakins
voice, the arts of a hypocrite! How
natural, and yet my heart was steel
ed against the young wife who had
after me, vcntured to plead for al
outcast child.
Nothing said affected the sicl
man.
Edna shall have nothing" h
said. He persisted in this; the viii
was completed, signed and sealed
and left in the hand of lawrcr Quill
to be opened after the Squire
death.
The next night the old man died
I was with him to the last. His fina
words were:
Don't let them harm Ardelia," Al
unnecessary warning, it seemed t
me, under the circumstances.
1t was abundantly evident tha
the artful Ardelia had complete mas
terry over the old Squire, and m
heart blcd over the alien Edna, who's
light laughter had once resounde
through the rooms, and whom | ha
always liked in her childhood. O
late, however, We had not met.
The clock struck four as the oil
Squire passed away.
Scarcely had the last breath flu
tered over the fallen lip, when ia
stranger entered and stood by til
bedside.
He had a pleasant handsome fac
was young, and his bearing denote
him professional man.
"Dr. Good ng."
l bowed and accepted the your
strangers hand, as the widow intr
!. duced him.
4 The doctor plucked my sleeve
;. the young wife stood weeping at Il
head of the bed.
/ followed him to another room.
A very grave look rested on b
handsome countenance.