Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1886-03-31

Mr. Rogers was the hero of this story;
again it seemed that Mr.. Rogers had played
prominent part in the decline and fall of
Amos Belden's fortunes; and again that
Jonathan Wilder would have done much
better to listen to Mr.. Rogers advice, and
thus have averted ruin and consequent auc-
tion bills. 1t was very artless egotism,
not hard to account for. For years the old
man had lived alone, his own chief counsel
lor and friend. l do not wonder that he
grew little larger in his own eyes than in
other mems; that his imagination, having
nothing else to do, built up the past till his
memory held fiction as dear as fact. am
quite ready to forgive him his retrospective
building, though happened to be
its credulous victim.
Then there were marvellous tales OF my
son Jim's' adventures in that far-off won
derland, ''out west" 1 believe three
scanty letters furnished these romances
their foundation of fact; but ask -no
questions, and believed with as honest a
faith in the gold-paved streets of San Fran
cisco as in those of the New Jerusalem.
would say. 81 never thought hard of him
for goin' off IF he only comes back to
bury me, that's all ask. He'll be coming
back one of these days, rich and handsome,
l hain't doubt. 1 shouldn't wonder if
he'd be looking round for a wife. Let's
see-how old are you? I shouldn't wonder
if you were just about right for him by that
time. You'd make pntty little pair"
Though time had stood as still with Jim
as his father seemed to think, the idea of
my marrying him would have lost none of
its uncomfortable grotesqueness.
UDon't Mr. Rogers" / said
'Bashful, are you ?" he answered, trying
to look rognish. "Don't you be for not
getting married though, like the Miss
Buckands and the Jewbury girls, and the
Bassett girls, and all the rest. There's too
many ON 'enn, too many on 'em. l used to
tell my wife that | was better'n nothin'
anyway It's kind of shabby in the men
to go off and leave che women to die off
here in the up-country all alone. l
amt afraid but Jim'n find somebody
easy enough"
ooh, yes ~ I said, for was afraid 1 had
hurt the old mans feelings. I'm sure he
must be very nice, >
One accomplishment of Mr.. Rogers g
shall never forget. He not only told me
stories as hs worked, but he professed to
be able to read them from his hands, which
he held before him like the open pages of
a book.
'Ses You can look at 'em," he would
say s.There's nothing hid in 'em. No
cheating about it. Hard and tough
Don't look much like a book; do they :?
But Just hear ME read to you out of EN-"
l was completely mystiied, especially
when the reader stopped to spell out Il word,
and when he held his hard hands up to the
light and complained that it was rather
fine print to such old eyes; but still the
story went on without break, and in spite
of myself, was brought to the belief that
Mr.. Rogers possessed supernatural reading
powers, perhaps akin to the mystery of my
parsng lesson, which told of sermons in
stones and books in the running brooks F"
The summer and fall went by, and the
winter came, with frolics without number;
but alas to the poor and old it brought
only a chill that crept into their bones and
took up its abode there. Poor old john
Rogers? 1 lifted his latch one day, but
the awl lay idle OH the bench. 1t was only
the rheumatism that had taken mean
advantage of the infirm knee; but week
after week he lay in his bed, and the dust
gathered thicker in his little shop. The
neighbors were kind; but the best people
find a sameness in the constant repetition
of good deeds, and by degrees it grew plain
that the old mans friends would feel
sense of relief if he got well 1t was about
this time that my grandmother declared
with sigh that she had great respect for
Mr.. Rogers.
"He's borne up under aff1iction like G
true Christian; but rather shiftless-rather
shiftless. l don't know how to reconcile
his virtues with the dirt and disorder he
lives in. l don't wonder his wife took to
her bed.''
"They say she was perfect shrew," said
my mother, placidly threading her needle.
"Half crazy-so I've heard. Mr.. Apple
ton thinks there's no use in Mr. Rogers try
ing to stay by himself this winter. He'd
much better 60 to the poorhouse and be
taken good care of. Mrs. Simons, the wo-
man over his shop, says he's hardly a cent
left, and shescan't be expected to provide
for him. l suppose the thought of it will
be rather hard for him at first, but he'll be
much better off. Lucy, Gear, won't you
hand me my scissors ?''
I gave my mother her scissors, but felt
that by the act l became a conspirator in
this plot for the degradation of my poor old
friend. sat by his bed next day, when
who should appe..r at the door but my faith
er. / felt that the plot was thickening.
"Well. how are you, Mr.. Rogers - said
my father in his hearty voice. care you
feeling pretty smart today"
"Yes, Pm pretty smart, thank We, hahn t
got them boots O. yourn quite ready yet,
though I'll try and take hold of 'bm to.
morrow. Pm sorry you had the trouble of
coming after 'em for nothing. l can send
'em by your little gal. dunno's you know
what good little gal she is to come and
see me.'
81 like to come" l said.
Ny father seemed in no hurry to go, and
said, at length:
"Rather lonely here by yourself, isn't it,
Mr.. Rogers ?"
"Well l dunno's I've much to complain
of. Mrs. Simons, upstairs, looks after things,
and tell her to spend the money in the
black teapot. There's other folks worse
off,"
My father looked puzzled.
Il clare, Mr.. Rogers, you've known
what trouble was, haven't you? See! How
many years was your wife laid up? And
you've lost about all your children, and now
here you are yourself"
Eyes, yes,' said the old man. "But
those ain t the sort of things try to let my
mind dwell on while Pm a-lyiug here.
try to count up my mercies."
My father looked desperate.
"Well, now, Mr.. Rogers I think, and
my wife thinks, that you ought to go some
where else."
81 ain got nowhere else to go, sir. Pm
all alone in the world. It's true what you
say"
"But Mr. Rogers, to be plain, you know
Pm one of the selectmen, and I'd see that
the town took care of you-better care than
Mrs. Simous does.'
81 dunnos I quite catch your mean
ing, sir. Does anybody find fault with Mrs.
Simons ?''
"No, no. don't mean that. mean we
think you'd better go down to Mr.. Miles to
spend the winter. He keeps the town farm,
you know"
"You mean to the poorhouse, sir? |
warn't very bright ter see.'
Tie old man turned his faded eyes i'm
ploringly UP to my fathers face.
"Well, yes, that's what they call it,,
though must say never quite liked the
name.o
The old cobbler's face seemed to grow
white and aged before our very eyes. The
tears rolled slowly down his cheeks. With
the instinct decently to hide his trouble, he
drew up the old bed-auilt with tremulous
bond ond turpad bic faca IN tho wall