The Arizona sentinel., 1889-12-14
TWO MISERS
The Difference Which xisbed B,
 tween Their Characters.

A miser! Well, yes, suppose I an
 what some folks would call miser
 That is to say, have always lived or
 very little money, and turned over anC over, always increasing a great deal My wife died when we were young peo
 pie, and thought hundred dollars ar lneXhaustible fund of wealth; and really, you did get more solid comfort out-of a hundred dollars sixty-fve years ago than you can now get with five times as much. Well, after Selina died, and took her baby with her-poor soul T didn't much seem to take much stock in life myself
 l had small farm, then, just on what was an Outskirt of a town-never mind where-and dug, and planted, and sent garden-truck to market, and now and then basket of very fine fruit or vege- tables to Sarah.
 Sarah was my sister, and married to city clerk, who wasn't uncommonly rich.
 l bought up good bit of land in those days-a few acres here for a new kind of beans, and a patch there for an orchard till held quite lot of what you call real estate nowadays.
 By and by the town was made a city, and, bless you! the great folks took a notion to make the part where I lived the fashionable locality.
 To make long story short, my land was mine of wealth. Some of it I sold . with the money l built some grand houses, and with rents and good invest ments the money grew and grew, till I was more than rich man.
 But I kept one little patch of land, lpon which was the house l was born in, where my parents lived and died, where Sarah and played hide and seek in the crooked entries and fed pigeons on the sloping roof over the kitchen.
 l was all alone, excepting my servant woman, Jane, and I liked simple food and plain clothes, and so folks called me a miser. Perhaps Sarah could have told them better, or some of the poor people about; but as I never put my name to big charities, and never gave away money without investigating the purpose for which it was demanded, I got the name of being stingy.
 Years rolled along, and Sarah died; her husband died, too, years later, and the only relative I had in the world was Sarah's son, named for me, Ralph War dOur, with his fathers name, of course, added-Ralph Wardour Meyers.
 They say-those folks who define every thing regarding the people of this world-that Ralph takes after me-" 'His uncle all over," l have heard as a description, and submittel in silence And the similarity lies in this:
 let my money grow, because have no use for it about my own house or per son. l follow Scripture, in keeping my left hand from knowing what my right hand doeth. What l give, I give quiet ly. What I plan to do, after I leave this world, with the money I can not take with me, l tell no one. Ralph WardOur Meyers scrapes and hoards. because the love of money is the strong est passion of his mean, sordid soul. He is ostentatious where it will be to his advantage to be so, and grinds down the last farthing. He drove his wife to her grave by tyranny and petty exactions, and he drove pretty Sadie
 But that is going too fast Let me get to that part of my story in better style. Sadie Meyers, my sisters grand child and namesake, was the prettiest blue-eyed baby that ever gladdened mothers heart. She was left mother less when she was only ten years old, | and was the most trmid, shy little | maiden in the world. Heaven knows | would have loved her, but one of the | first lessons implanted in her heart was | that possessed untold riches and must | never be crossed, or I might leave the | money ''out of the family"
 Poor little Sadie! She had not one !! mercenary thought in her pure little | heart; but she was so afraid of me. sas terrified lest she should offend the fam fly ''ogre, that gave up the attempt | to win her, and she drifted out of my | life for many long years. knew that | she was at boarding-school, but knew | very little more.
 It was ten years ago, one fearfullv | stormy evening in January, blowing, showing, freezing when Jane came in to me, her wrinkled old face pale with horror, her hands trembling.
 ''Oh, Mir. Wardour, come into the | kitchen" she pleaded, ''for the love of Heavenr'
 I started at once, thinking the water pipes had sprung leak, or the snow had broken through the roof, for Jane was apt to be very dramatic on very small provocation.
 Sut my own old heart seemed to stand still when I Saw stretched upon the floor what seemed to be dead woman. Her clothing was frozen upon her, her face cold and white, and her eyes closed. Every thing sine wore was of the costli- est material, but ruined by the snow and sleet.
 ''Can you lift her?" asked Jane. ''Tll 1 put her in the spare-room bed, and get her clothes off. sir, if you'll lift he'."
 l'Seud Robert for doetor. first of all. %