Bridgeton pioneer., 1917-09-06
Bread Cast
Upon the Waters
By JAMES COOLIDGE

u StUTN VI HOn OAbNOuo thC Poi'OA '~~S
required to take an old man on his
shoulders and carry him across
stream. When the cid man was Sc
curely fixed in his position he refused
to get down. and Sindbad was obliged
to bear the burden indefinitely. l am
reminded by this story of the Old
Man Of the Sea Of something similar
that happened to me when l was a
young man.
Before settling down to my profess
sion. having put aside enough money
to spend a few months in Europe,
went abroad. The sum was only $780,
and was obliged to piece it out by
doing a good deal of walking. One day
was trudging along through the En-
gadile when l overlook a man who
for some reason was having a hard
time to get on. When l came up with
him l babe him good morning and
asked him if | could be of any as
sistance to him.
"You might help me along to the next
hotel" he said. Its only about a
mile"
l took his arm, and as we walked
slowly on he told me that he was Enoch
Crane, an American. He had long been
ailing, and his doctor had sent him
abroad. He, like myself, was walking
because he couldn't afford to ride.
When we got to the inn 1 took him to
room and helped him to bed-a bed
from which he was destined never to
arise. He was very i'll in the night.
and sat with him till near morning.
Having my time laid out and none
to lose, | proposed after breakfast to
proceed on my journey, but Mr.. Crane
begged me so pitifully not to desert a
fellow countryman among strangers
that l agreed to remain with him an
other day. At the end of that day l
was constrained to remain another and
another till l found the time allotted
for my travels slipping away from
me and l taking care of a sick man
in little Swiss inn.
In this way the whole time l had
laid out for my trip passed and the
time for me to go home arrived. The
old man was sinking rapidly, and the
village doctor told him that he had bet
ter prepare his affairs for journey to
another world. Then Mr.. Crane called
me to his bedside and said to me:
"You tell me you are going home. l
beg of you not to leave my body in this
faraway land, but to take it with you.
I have expected to die over here and
have made every provision, having in
quired the cost Of removal in every
particular. You will find exactly the
amount in my wallet Under my pillow.
Take my body to B., in r. county in
Massachusetts, and about mile north
of the village on the V. turnpike is a
lot forty feet square inclosed with
stones taken off the ground. In the
center is space marked by four posts,
where the grave is to be located. This
is not all. | want you to be custodian
Of my grave. Send for a notary and
I will draw up paper transferring the
lot to you with everything it contains.
which, Of course, is my body"
What situation! My trip spoiled,
obliged to 60 home in company and in
care of the corpse of the man who had
spoiled it and my pay was plot of
ground not worth $50, which, after all,
must hold for grave. Nevertheless
consented. l cannot claim that did
it solely from kindly motives. Enoch
Crane possessed a singular influence
over me.
When Mr.. Crane died l possessed my.
self Of his wallet, which, in addition
to money. contained an account for ex.
penses figured down to the closest pos
sible amount 1t struck me that he
must have been afraid would reap q
few dollars out of the transaction. II
paid the way exactly, and expended
the last dollar in having the body
transferred to the grave l had prom
ised Mr.. Crane that l would see the
grave dug, the body lowered and the
earth put back, all under my own su
perintendence. To do this must pay
for my own carriage. Glad of the pros
pect Of getting the disagreeable matter
off my hand, secured two men witt
the necessary implements and was soor
standing beside them as they dug the
grave between the posts Crane ha6
described. They had gone down abou
four feet when one of them threw uI
| a tin box. took charge of it, bu
since it was locked l was obliged tt
wait my return to the village before
examining it. presumed it to be an
other whim of the man who was bein,
buried. had a mind to sink it, fear
ing it involved some new obligation OF
my part.
Having kept my promise to the let
ter. ! drove back to the village and
calling for room in the little hotel
proceeded to open the box. 1t contain
ed number of envelopes. From tn,
topmost l drew paper. 1t recountet
the wrongs heaped upon Enoch Gran,
by his relatives-he had no wife O
child-and their heartlessness in per
mitting him to go abroad alone il
search of health. The next enyelop