Year: 1871

As Tom waxed old, however, he grew
thoughtful. Having secured the good
things of this world, he began to feel
anxious about the next. He thought
with regre! on the bargain he had made
with his black friend, and put his wits
to work to cheat him out of his condi-
tions. He became, therefore, all of
sudden, violent church-goer. He pray
ed loudly and strenuously, as if heaven
were to be carried by force of lungs.
Indeed, one might always tell when he
had sinned most during the week by the
clamor of his Sunday devotion. The
quiet Christians who have been modestly
aud quietly travelling Zonward, were
struck with selt-reproach at seeing them
selves so suddenly outstripped in their
career by this new-made convert. Tom
was as rigid in religion as in money mat
ters he was stern supervisor and
censurer of his neighbors, and seemed to
think every sin entered up to their ac-
count beanie a credit on his page. He
even talked of the expediency of revi-
wing the persecution of the Quakers and
the Anabaptists. In word, Toms
seal became as his riches.


Still, in spite of his strenuous atten-
ton TO forms, Tom had lurking dread
that the devil after all would have his
due. That he might not be taken
unawares, therefore, it is said he always
carried small Bible in his pocket. He
also had a great folio Bible in his count
ing-house desk, and would frequently be
found reading when people called on
business on such occasions he would
lay his green spectacles on the book to
mark the place, while he turned around
to drive some usurious bargain.


Some say Tom grew a little crack
Drained in his older days, and that, fancy
ing his end approaching, he had his horse
new shod, saddled and bridled, and bur-
led with his feet uppermost, because that,
at the last day, the world would be turn
ed upside down, in which case he would
find his horse ready for mounting, and he
was determined at the worst to give his
friend run for it. This, however, is
probably mere old wife's fable. If he
really did take that precaution, it was
totally superfluous-at least, so says the
authentic old legend, which closes his
story in the following manner:


One hot afternoon in the dog days,
just as a terrible black thunder gust came
up, Tom sat in his counting house in his
white linen cap and India silk morning
gown. He was on the point Of toreclos-
ing mortgage, by which he would COM
plete the ruin OF an unhappy Spectator
for whom he had protessed the greatest
friendship. The poor land jobber begged
him to grant few months indulgence.
Tom had grown testy aud irritated, and
refused another day.


"My family will be ruined and brought
upon the parish" said the land-jobber.


"Charity begins at home, cried Tom !;
Il must take care OF myself these hard
times"


"You have made so much money out
of me- said the specuator.


Tom lost his patience and his piety.
The devil take me- said he, 'if have
made a tarthing.' H....


Just then there were three loud knocks
at the street door.


He stepped out to see who was there.
A black man with black horse, which
neighed and stamped with impotence.


''rom you are come for said the black
fellow gruffiy. Tom shrunk back, but
too late. He had left his little Bible at
the bottom OF his coat pocket, and his
big Bible on the desk, buried under the
mortgage he was about to foreclOse-
never was poor sinner taken more
unawares. The black man wbisked him
hike child astride the horse, and away
he galloped in the midst of thunder
storm. The clerks stuck their pens be-
hind their ears and stared after him from
the windows. Away went Tom Walker
dashing down the streets, his white cap
bobbing up and down, his morning gown
futterlng in the wind, and his steed strik-
ing FIRE ont of the pavement at every
bound. When the clerks turned to
look, the black man had disappeared.


Tom Walker never returned TO fore
close the mortgage. A countrymau who
lived near the swamp, reported that in
the hight of the thuDdergust, he heard
a great elattering of boots and bowling