St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1888-09-27

lected his jury that l approached the
cottage. Being a comparative strang-
er in the place, and as there we're no
railroads to the village, and it being
had learned of its existence, a stranger
received considerable attention, from
the very fact of his being a stranger,
and each was anxious to tell all he
knew about the deceased.
before, he was lively. energetic, and
was everywhere his young wife was
the light of every party ; but of late
years they had shrunk from public
gaze, and his o took his place at
news-gathering. The paper had grown
apparently in circulation every year
since it started. 1t was her opinion
their property had made them proud.
Over two thousand papers were issued
weekly. Most everybody read the
Gazette, she guessed. She had taken
it since it started, and was intending
to u in that very day and settle. She
had received a bill, stating that she
had kind o. needed the money, and
OiiO Ill uIQu U dIDOuuG " huCu " all
editor with so big a business. "No
need of their having been so proud, if
they bad run a paper" was the I'M
charitable remark of a ~bystander. "The
editor was miserly, too" chimed in an
other she did his own work, and al
most always, of late, has refused to
to subscribe when a paper is handed
around"
1uo .rohLJ -or+h 600 900 b;uo5
it up; $4,000 received annually for
subscriptions, to say nothing of adver-
tising," figured the village school
master. 81 have taken his paper for
fifteen years, and a while ago he sent
me a bill for $50. 1t would have been
public-spirited of him to send his
paper free, l being a public servant
His business was good so 1 have not
hurried about the money"
Probably murdered for his money!"
volunteered another. "Why there's
no end of money these editors make.
Only a few days ago he Sent me a bill
to pay ten dollars l owed him for five
years. subscription. Anxious to put
the money in the bank, l suppose. AS
l needed it just then, l delayed. l
don't believe in folks being piggish if
CnSy are PROFESSIONALS"
Just then the beadle and the jury
appeared.
GLOW is it2 how is it 2" asked the
multitude in a breath.
"Gentlemen," gasped the beadle,
''they are starved to DEATH"
Impossible" exclaimed all.
at is even SO" continued the beadle.
"Mr. Foreman, tell how it is"
The foreman mounted a box, and
taking out my note book by force of
habit, l took down his words. They
were as follows:
"CitiZens of Kummersolthal Never,
until this hour, has the truth of the
red legend been established, and never
until this hour has there been more
reason to call our place Kummersol-
thai, or sorrowing vale. On the floor
at his mothers bedside lies the dead
son, and on the bed the starved
mother. On the stool, bent forward
IN his case, is the editor himself, with
the stick, the implement of his profess
sion, in his hand, and the last word set,
gentlemen, was 'Kummersolthal.' The
last leader he set was his farewell to
you, citizens of the town of his adop-
ton. Yes, gentlemen, his native town !;
| read you, now, the copy taken from
the cast of the deceased"
"TO the citizens of Kummersolthal: /
bid farewell. One hour ago my wife
died, starved. One half hour after, my
son followed, and before the clock
strikes four, my edition, too, will be
run off and the forms closed. Our de-
pleted wardrobe answers charges of
pride. You thought us rich and we
would not beg-except for our just
DUE"
Three-quarters of a century ago my
father discovered Kummersolthal. On
this very spot the savages murdered
my mother. From here, too, 1 was
abducted. IT'S the home of my birth.
Hence for twenty years l have labored
to build up the land my father first
trod. In the future that work will be
appreciated. On the table is my ledg-
er, in which are recorded $4,000 in
just dues to me-all against good, re-
liable men in this town. My claims,
though just, have not been noticed. |
am indeed well off, but yet SO poor.
Kummersolthal my father called this
place, and Knmmersolthal it is to me.
Though l have been wronged, l for"
"Here the paragraph Breaks" said
the foreman of the jury.
"And may the forgiveness he mean
to bestOw on US be granted" solemnly
continued the beadle.
One by one the citizens start away
home leaving the authorities alone
with the dead.
Two days after, returning through
the village, l joined in the long pro-
cession going to the church. Before
the altar were three beautiful caskets
furnished by the citizens, and canopied
over with the richest flowers; indeed,
what the people failed to do to the
they had made up on the dead.
Never were so many tears shed, for all
knew they had a hand in bringing the
deceased family to the grave. AS the
organist played the dirge 1 wondered
what the aged pastor would say to the
The music ceased, and the aged
preacher arose and opened the Holy
Book to Romans, xiii, 7:8. Fully five
minutes he waited, after finding the
place, until the weeping people were
as still as the dead forms before
them, and he read
"Render therefore to all their due.
Owe no man anything"
He closed the book ; the organ play
ed another dirge, and the conductor
mOtiOned the audience forward to take
the last look at the remains. 1t was
briefest but most pointed funeral
l ever heard.