Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1891-05-04

earance ana took up the burden OF
vim in the world. Never had no no
on of fodtfs1 sinceI'' and the squire
ave kind of sucking snort of laugh
n apd strangled again. John Earling
'as a trifle bored by the garrulous
indicate such a feeling for any one,
fere their unpleasant features free of
vii.
Is Mr.. Snaer still livingP'i he asked:
"Bless you'll / don't know, / don't
now; guess not, though; he left here
iefore the war and went South some
where, and nobody, leastwise in these
larts, has ever heard a breath of i'm
" had the scratch of a pen from i'm.
lie always seemed like a fish out of
water after your fathers DEATH Guess
he didn't feel satisfied about takin' the
and as he did. But bless you! the
transaction was square and straight as
4 tombstone; he paid the money and
leld the decd
$50 understand"
..But he laid it clean over me-" said
the squire, SOLDERING and shaking his
head; 81 never could butt agin the
thing hard enough to make the reason
Tor his goin' off penetrate my pate. He
sold every thing he had about here but
the farm he got of your father; that he
put in my keer, an told me to hev' it
seeded down an paster an hay it an
put the proceeds in the bank for i'm.
Then he cleared out, an not a blessed
hair of i'm has ever showed above the
horizon sineem
"How long since was that?"
s"Fifteen years agoi If he's in Heaven,
what's to become Of the farm an pro-
ceedsP never heerd of i'm havin' q
Lin on earth. I've thought about it,
boy, till I've lost the bigger sheer of
my hair. I can't do the sunni It's as
tough as the dried gizzard of ancient
Pharaohr' and with another snort the
squire strangled, and they walked out
upon the porch.
| CHAPTER XXI.
Next morning John EARRING, accom-
panied by the fat widows son, went
i down the winding road to the farm
! where in the long ago he first received
the fatal gift of life. The air was
| quiet, with sunny flavor in it, and
the snow lay over the world like a
| light blanket of down. The boy point
ed out the spot where John Earnings
| father fell, and the young man stood
still while flood of feeling swept
over him, and looked at the trees
so bare of verdure and the little
stream that came jingling down the
hill and slipped away into the white
meadows. When they came in sight
of the house which, weather-beaten
and brown, stood breast deep in a
mass of tangled shrubbery, and over
topped and leaned upon by larger
trees, John Earring dismissed the
| youth, who took himself off toward the
town with a deals of vigor, for the
premises had gotten with the flight of
years very ghostly reputation. In
deed, the place was very suggestive of
uncanny fancies, being so shaggy and
lonely and overgrown; besides time
had only intensified and deepen ed the
tale of darkness that overshadowed it.
Here once had been a happy home, all
filled with warmth and love and COM
fort when the north winds blew, and
blossom-cinctured in the summer,
which some unknown hand, with an
appalling sin in it as weapon, had
struck and crushed away into dark
ness and left to cold decay and DESC
lation. And the young man, standing
before it, had been its heart of glad.
ness once; lying up in the big chamber
there in soft woods and filmy linen with
halo of sweet wishes about hisvacant
\ u. w
him of! He could not compass it, fol
those far-off days to him were as empty
of any remembered thing as the gray
hollow of heaven which. without mo-
ton, or cloud. or feck. arched over
him.
He slowly crowded his way through
the tangle and stood upon the wide
porch, which, moss-grown, decayet
and sagged between the pillars, seemed
tipping away from the time-darkenec
building. The doors and window,
were closed with heavy planks, secured
by spike-nails and cross-bars of heavy
oak bolted into the wall. 1t seemed
strange that an empty house shoulC
have been closed SO. securely against in
trusion.
For an hour John Earling walked
about the place and fingered gloonlily
in the decaying out-buildings; then h
found an iron bar in what had been F..
granary once and went to work on on,
of the windows, and after working
, long time succeeded in opening it
When he stood within, it was with deep
est awe he gazed about. Here lay th,
household things of those unremem
bered ones who gave him life. Sofas
. chairs, tables, silent clock; old-fash
! toned vases wherein the flowers hat
turned to dust, moth-eaten rugs, ant
carpet that parted under his feet like
, fine-chopped feathers, tall carveo
case of moldy books, brass candle
holders upon the wall, curious LAM
, with prism pendants upon the mantel
and every thing thick with mold ant
stain and rust and dust.
''This musthave been the best room,
, he thought, land 1 have come home a
| lasti"
The window hangings were swing
r ing in shreds all patched and repatche
: by the lace-weaving spider, and sewers
: of the pictures had parted their cord
and were lying upon the floor. A
+ sight of one of these he started forwar
with a cry; he thought it was his ow
: l face but il was the likeness of a won