Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1893-01-31

tsrs. Perhaps you are getting tired Of
my prattle, sir-my old mans talk. j
am really not 20 very old, II my hair Is
thin and my beard gray-barely ffty,
and after this journey expect to bc
quite q boy again. ! Isuppose you were
surprised this afternoon when ! spoke OF
having worked In coal mine, were You
notr
The old man seemed TO have some lit
tie pride in this singulaity Of fortune.
expressed the proper interest In such y
change OF destiny.
"You shall hear how II happened" he
said. "You reinember-no, you are too
young TO remember, but you have heard
how we oil went mad about mills and
mines In Lancashirs some twenty years
ago."
eyes" said ]. '.it was then that steam
and cotton began to understand eacl,
other, and coal and negroes became Inn.
portant."
"What panic Of speculation We all
rushed into In Lancashire!" said the old
gentleman. 1--WE all felt, we gentlemen.
that we were mere idlers, not doing our
duty, a. England expects every man to
do. unless We were building chimncys
or digging pits We were all either
grubbing down In the bowels Of the
earth for coal, or rearing great chimneys
up In the air to burn II. really think
most Of Ms began TO like smoke better
than blue sky; certainly 1t tasted sweeter
TO us than our good old English fog.
swell. sir" continued he, ~ was like
my neighbors. Imust dabble In milling
and mining. was willing to be richer.
Indeed. as soon rs began to speculate ]
thought myself richer. ! spent more
money. went deeper into my opera.
tions. One can throw o great treasure
Into coal mine without seeing any re-
turn, and can send q great volume Of
smoke up chimney before the mill be-
gins to pay. It Is an old story. Twill
not tire you with 1t. Twas all at once q
ruined man."
He paused moment and looked about
the dim, starlit prairie, with the white
wagons and the low fort In the distance.
"Well," sid he, In the careless, airy
manner which seemed his characteristic
one, "if I had not been ruined I should
have staid stupidity at home and never
worked In coal mime, or travelled on
the plains, or had the pleasure Of meet.
ing you and your friend here. It is all
fresh and novel. II It were not for my
daughter and my duties to the church, !
should take my adventures US lightly as
you do when your gun misses Hre aud
you lose dinner.
"The thing that troubled me most at
the time Of my disasters" he resumed,
twas being defeated for parliament.
There had always been Clitheroe there.
When my father died I took his seat.
I used to spend freely on elections, but ]
thought they sent me because they liked
me, or for love Of the old name. When
lost my fortune there came q snob, sir,
and stood against me. He accused me
Of being free thinker, N II the Clith.
eroes had not always been liberali He
got up cry and bought votes. Ny own
tenants, my old tenants, whom I had
feasted out Of pure good will hundred
times, turned against me. lost my
election and my last shilling"
at was Just then, sir, that my dear
wife died and my dear Ellen was born"
He turned sadly around TO look ut his
daughter. She was walking at some
distance with Brent. The earnest mur.
mur OF their voices came to US through
the stiffness. I felt what my friend
must be saying In that pleading tone.
Everything went disastrously with
me-" continued Mr.. Clitheroe. ~ tried
to recover my fortunes, fairly and hon.
estly, but II was too late. Ny creditors
took the old hall. Hugh Clitheroe In
Harry the Eighth's time built 1t, on land
where the family had lived from before
Egbert. Host II, sir. The family came
to an end with me. found sheriffs
officers making beer rings on my old oak
dining table. The Yandykes went.
Hugh, OF Cromwell's days, was divorced
from his wife, the Beauty. tried to
keep them together; but scrubs bought
them and stuck them up In their vulgar
parlors. Sorry businessi Sorry busi.
ness!"
"You kept q brave heart through II
ALL"
eyes, until they accused me Of dis.
honesty. That felt bitterly, and every.
body gave me the cold shoulder. l could
get nothing to do. There Is not much
that broken down gentlemen can do,
but no one would trust me. ! grew
poorer than you can conceive. / Ilost all
heart. Men are poor creatures-as .
desolate man finds"
"Not all, I hope" was my protest.
"Truly not all, but the friends OF pros.
perity are birds that come to be fed and
| fly away when the crumbs give out. All
are not base and time serving, but men
are busy and careless. and fancy that
Others can always take care Of them.
selves. Icould not beg, sir, but II came
near starvation to me In Christian Eng
land-to me and my young daughter,
within Q year after my misfortunes.
Perhaps I was overproud or overvain,
but grew tired Of the sights Of people
that had known me In my better days,
and now lodged me because I was shah.
by and poor. I wanted to get out OF
sight Of the ungrateful, ungracious
world. The blue sky grew hateful to
me. I must live, or II life was nothing
| TO me my daughter must not starve. j
had choice Of factory or coal mine to
hide myself in. I sank into coal mine"
"a strange contrastr ! said, after q
pause.
"I am trying to make the whole his
| tory less dreamy. Each seems unreal
my luxurious life at Clitheroe Hall, and
my troglodyte life down In ths coal pit.
| Idler aud slave; either extreme had Its
own special unhappiness and unhealthi.
ness"
How much wisdom there was In the
| veakness of the old mans characterl