The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1889-07-20
OLD PRoUTYs MONUMENT.
1t VIII De Composed of Rum Barrels ano
DrunkarlS.

broken heart, thankful that her baby
girls had gone before her. there was
one who felt the bereavement most
keenly. This was her only son, whom
she left with many words OF loving
counsel
Murray Lee was then fourteen
years of age, a strong, good-tempered
lad, who had done his best to help his
mother in her over-burdened life. his
experience had made him self-reliant
and self-contained. He had his hopes
and ambitions like other boys, but OF
these he never spoke. He was the
son of drunkard-a miserable, be-
sotted drunkard-and this gave him
his social stamp.
When his mother died he was alone,
except for cousin many years his
senior, who was nearly as poor as
himself, only that she had roof over
her head. Under this roof she gave
Murray Lee shelter for year, while
he earned enough among the neigh
boring farmers to provide himself
with food and clothing.
At the end of year he astonished
his cousin by telling her that he was
going away.
Il don't know where" he said in
answer to her question. 81 am gofHs11
to make a strike for something better
than l can get here. / want to 60
where l sha'n't be called Old Lees
boy. Father wasn't old. but he was
such an awful drunkard every body
called him Old Lee
You won't change your name, Muir
ray?"
mo; but I mean to change the way
folks speak it here in this town. I
sha'n't come back till I can stand on a
level with anybody there is here. l
am good for hard work, and hard
study, too, if l can get a chance at
books. I've laid awake a good many
nights thinking about it, and I've
made up my mind. I'm tired of fight
ing my way"
You'll have to fight your way if you
60 among strangers. You won't find
it all smooth sailing"
Il don't expect to, but sha'n't have
to live down the disgrace OF being Old
Lees boy. I'm going so far off there
won't be anybody know any thing
about my father
Il shall miss you, Murray. It's
good deal for lone woman like
me to have you coming home nights
and helping about things l can't do for
myself"
at has been more for me to have
Il place to come to, and you have
helped me great deal more than |
have helped you. But if l live I'll try
and pay you"
you've paid me ten times over.
That's what I've said to all the neigh
bors. don't blame you for going.
wouldn't stayed here year after yearif
l could got away. I've just managed
to earn living" ~
'And help others, cousin Jane.
Mother knew how good you were. l
don't know what we should have
done. sometimes, if it hadn't been for
you"
A few days after this conversation
Murray Lee left his native town with
two dollars in an old wallet given him
by his cousin, and a change of cloth
ing tied in cotton hand kerchief.
Not long after he left this cousin
died, her little property scarce suffic-
ing to meet the expenses of her sick
ness and burial.
Twenty years of absence, and then
Murray Lee came back to his native
town, glad to look once more upon its
hills and follow the windings of its
streams. They were the same as in
his boyhood. The farm-houses stood
as they had stood then, showing few
signs of improvement. There, too.
was the little church, with the inclos-
ure back OF it, called by the plain
country people "the graveyard" in
one corner of which were buried his
father, mother and sisters.
He recognized many of the men and
women whom he met in his rambles,
while to them he was only a we'll
dressed stranger. At length he &C.
costed an old man, claiming acquaint.
ance and expressing pleasure at their
"You don't say you are" ex.
claimed the old man, in a tone of sur
prise.
81 am Murray Lee," was responded
so quickly as to interrupt the express
sion of establishment.
"Well, now, I'm glad to see yon
looking so prosperous. Guess you've
done better than the boys that stayed I
in our town. They hain't got ahead
much. Fact is, the towns been run
ming behind for more'n twenty years.
Il haven't seen many new build.
ings." said the younger man.
mo; nor you won't if you stay here
ten years, unless there's more of
change than We can expect. A good
many have lost their old houses.
There amt but precious few men in
town that have made more than
living. You remember Tom Prouty
that sold liquor here when YOU was