Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1910-09-01
shephedaown Jefferson County,

look round, hoping tnat people are going
to die just to give you job"
"Humph !" answered Hopkins, a heap
OF them might as we'll be dead-for they
are doing no good to themselves or any
body else. This country is getting much
too healthy for my business"
"Well, Hopkins" replied Barney" if
you will pick out few of those honery
folks you are limiting at, and give me their
names, I'll call around and tell them may
be they will get in the notion and die to
oblige YOU"
Hopkins was impartial in his religious
affiliations He went to all the churches,
but belonged to none. Though he waXed
coffins assiduously, yet he never waXed
rich thereby, and in his old age saw his
business leave him, and with but little
remaining for his support. BY the eX-
ertionS of two kind friends, Lane TowDer
and Rebow StaIey, he was placed in an
old mans home in or near Baltimore, and
there ended his days in peace. His rick
ETY. old shop, with the long Stepway to
its second story, has gone the way OF all
the earth, nor has the place been rebuilt
over, but remains a stand for livery car
riageS. In place OF the ghaStly hammer
ing together OF collins, a gasoline engine
with its "ker-chugging' strokes now
forges out icecream for the delectation OF
this community-quite an advance on the
road OF progress. Other nearby changes
might be noted. The silver Smithy across
the way, where an aged, deaf SpOonmak-
er, Wooltz, stood on the curb and pound
ed out his sharp-nosed tableware, has
been replaced by the fine residence OF
Mrs. Kate Reynolds, nesting among It's
giant trees. The dilapidated brick dwell
ling on the corner opposite has given
place to the ornate temple Of the money
changers, towit, the Jefferson Security
Bank
If the ghost OF the solemn old under
taker should revisit these glimpSeS OF the
moon, he would surely scratch his bald
pate and wonder where he was at. It
would be interesting TO witness Spiritu-
al seance where he should float in with
his Grape and hearSe, to run up against
the deaf old Spoonpounder; Barney
Shope, with his red bandana in evidence,
ready for the trembling jewel that hung
on his red-peaked nose the quaint old
beSpectacled John Davis, with his shovel
on shoulder; Eli Conley, on his path to
the fountain of morning JOY; the two
brothers Stephen, with their clarinet and
fife; old Bob VincinhelIer, looming up,
bearing the Masonic Bible on his portly
baywindow, followed by Uncle Bowen,
that meek Moses of Masonry; with Dan
Brooks, TO butt in with a forCible remark
or two-if only their were more COM
petent reporter at hand to interpret their
ghosty sneerS and shifts at the upStartS
who are now tenantng there old haurtS,
who have presumed to rear their naughty
homes on this very ground that should
have been held sacred to the memories OF
rude frontier life, when they were the
the patterns OF its high life and not so ele-
waited morals. How they would pour
contempt on the puny pride and pleas
ureS of the present, in contrast to the jars
and Publications Of we good old times,
when whiskey was as cheap as water and
the fountains of Joy were free and open
and the town afforded an exciting prize
ring every Saturday night.
How tame are The present days in COM
parison-so unheroic and uniutereSting-
aye, how are the mighty chopfalIen J.!