Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1894-09-09

could build such boats, nv Sucn klteS OF
play such games OF marbles a grandpa?
And o. even John, she thought, could
have been so patient, so consolatory,
when her little girl baby came and de-
parted like blasted bud.
Thus, also, two more years glided
past, and during the whole four Samuel
Smith had gone on accumulating money
and stock till he felt White Plains alto
gether too restricted for his enterprises;
so. gathering his goods together. he
sold his lands and bought great plan
t2tion in the Southwest.
White Plains had been In the Smith
family for many generations, though
not always known by that name; it was
the late Colonel Smith who had given
it that title. The old estate, however,
was widely known and admired, and at
its public auction the bidding ran high.
1t was struck off at last TO an old
Quaker of Grafton by the name OF
Bayne. Baone, however, did not at
once remove TO the place, but leased IL
10 farmer named Peyton.
And so the social tide closed over the
Smith vacuity, and after some surmises
and few prophecies they ceased to be
mentioned.
1t was perhaps about three years
after the sale that Sergeant Berry an
nounced thaa he was seventy. George,
by this time stout lad, began at once
to cipher up the date, aad Mary de-
clared grandpa" should have a party
to celebrate the event. The party was
given, and surrounded by kind admir-
ers and we'll wishers, and with his glass
of cider in mis- hand, Sergeant Berry ro-
capitulated the Revolution OF the Amer
lean colonies, beginning with the bill
of rights and Guiding with the British
surrender at Yorktown, pauslng only
now and again TO solemnly drink to a
general, comrade or frind who had
fallen in this or that engagement
George was so proud of grandpa,
whose eyes resumed the ire OF youth
and shone out once more as clear and
brightly blue as the field Of his star
spangled banner, aud Mary said she
had never seen the Sergeant look so
well nor heard MIN speak with such
vivacitY and true elOQuence.
But in the morning he was late, and
the first time, for breakfast, and John
on going up TO arouse him found him
dead and cold. with the ColonePs old
regimentals for a pillow. lie gently
removed them to replace the feather
pillow, when sealed envelope fell TO
the floor, Endorsed Sergeant Berry's
last will and testament"
But when John attempted to break
the sad news TO Mary she would not
believe IL. John, it cannot be-" she
exclaimed again and again. "Only last
night he looked so bright and seemed
well! He is only tired. Let me-
But John withheld her. Dear Mary,
be calm" he entreated. Remember,
though not very old, the Sergeant was
often quite feeble; he has simply drop
ped asleep like little child, without,
in all probability. either the conscious
ness or pain of death. What better,
dear, could you have wished for him?
Where is George"
Here. father" sobbingly answered
George from behind the cupboard.
George, harness the horse and drive
Quickly over TO White Plains. Fetch
Peyton and his wife, too, II possible.
When you return don't unharneSs the
roam, for must go to Grafton. See!
here is Sergeant Berry's will. 1t is a
grave responsibility, and l must see
Bayne, the lawyer, at once"
In his long drab coat and broad
brimmed hat the old lawyer was just isl
suing from his door when John Jackson
drove up. He closely listened to all John
had to say. then quietly rem arked:-
And so friend Berry is dead! Well,
well, drew the will thou hast there,
and well remember its purport; and l
truly congratulate thee and thy WIFE,
White Plains, which l bought for friend
Berry, is henceforth thine, only Smith
must hereafter be thy family name.
And now, Friend Smith, leave the will
with me, for it must be probated, thou
knowest."
But Mary was so little comforted by
the news Of the fortune that she wept
long and repeatedly over the vacant
chair, the empty pipe, and most OF all,
over her fathers Bible, where pair Of
worn spectacles marked the chapter
read by the sergeant after the birthday
party.
@TheY buried the old soldier near the
grave of his colonel, and the Grafton
militia did him all the military honors.
John and his family removed TO White
Plains.
When John and Mary were quite
elderly people and little George himself
was the fathea of many children, up
the same road which Sergeant Barry
had travelled that spring, there came an
other pedestrian as old and apparently
as poor. Steadily he drew nearer the
house, aud having at last knocked for
admittance, sat down to rest for mo-
ment in the Identical spot where once
had repOsed 1.-THE old vagabond.
But when he had been admitted
neither John nor Mary recognized
Samuel Smith. awe
Mary, don't you know me? John,
don't you remember me?" he snxiOusly
ouered, looking from one to the other.
She did know the voice, and, forget
ting and iorgiving every injustice and
uukindness there had been upon his
part, cried. MY dear brother, Is ii
youP" And John echoed, Dear Sam.
you?"
Eyes, it is l."
For little while they talked OF the
old days asking and answering many
questions; but Sam both talked and
listened restlessly. and finally, rising
from his chair, began pacing the floor
while he talked.
Mary" he said, I've come back to
the old home to die" His voice broke
as be spoke, and kept on breaking at
short intervals as he thus continued:
Here, Masy, here, my dear sister,
is the portion IL money which father
charged me TO give you, but which, |
am sorry 20 say. never had the heart