Lyman Hart

maribeth_sanford Member Photo

Clipped by maribeth_sanford

Lyman Hart - :hange, loicliy, j«ttbMa,i.F*. . ^kffUF* ^*" a...
:hange, loicliy, j«ttbMa,i.F*. . ^kffUF* ^*" a * way> a a «a« OH you may tr 8»!—tht isaaflt •< your fact trace- BCT »w*•* .. . Breathe* your spirit tenderly, Lo, a traasimation! 'All UM duhtcw of my tiumcht. Into filmy hoot* wrought, By the inspiration, Shimmers into rime* that rue Floating round you, bnbbkwue, For your delectation. And behold! These bubbles, too; Each reflect* it* laistnw—you! A SHERIFFS SALE. BY J. L.| HARBOUR. O one was greatly surprised when it was announced that Lyniau Hart's home and household effects were to be „ •old at public auction by the Sheriff of the county. He had "failed," and now he was to be "sold out." Many of his neighbors said they were "dreadful sorry for the Harts." They declared it was "all Lymau's own fault." Old Nat Dake, the richest man in town, and one who had never been known to give away a dollar, said, sagely: "It is all very well to talk about gen'rosity, but there's such a thing as being just before you are gen'rous, 1 and I've told Lyman Hart so many a time. No man can give away as reckless as he did and keep a roof over his he:id. Charity's all right, but the place for it to begin is at home. There ain't been a week in the past ten years when Lyman Hart ain't had Borne one haugiii' on to him that hadn't no claim on him. an' that he'd ought to have sent to the poorhouso. And now he's btiiig soid out because he can't pay his taxes nor the mortgages on his place and furniture." ~NaT~I)aEe~~dnr'~nof ~:f<Td," but" "every" One knew, that he held most of the notes and mortgages Lyman Hart could not pay. They knew chat these notes and mortgages called for a rate of interest higher than old Xat Drake could have exacted had he not taken advantage of Lymuu Hart's extreme necessity. They knew further that Nat Dake had long coveted the Hart farm because it adjoined his own, and that he secretly rejoiced over the distress which enabled him to take the farm Jroni Lyman Hart. Even his kinder and truer friends .were of the opinion that Lyman Hart had not been wise. "He Itas taken in and done for them (that had no earthly claim on him," •aid garrulous old Ann Haskins, who had known Lyman from his boyhood, and whose sorrow for him was sincere. "What earthly claim did his cousin's widow and her three children have on him that he should keep them a Whole year after his cousin died and left them without a penny in the World? --------------------------------------------------------*And when old Nancy David's hus- on the porch and read, in a strident voice, the order of the court for the sale of the property. Then he took off his coat and hat, pushed up his shirt sleeves as if preparing for a hand-to- hand conflict, and called out: "And now, ladies and gentlemen, how much am I offered for this fine property, worth six thousand dollars if it's worth a cent? Fifty acres of it are under cultivation and one hundred more in pasture and woodland, with a good ten-roomed house, fine barn and other outbuildings all thrown in. Here they are, ladies and gents. The place would be dirt cheap at six. or even seven thousand dollars, and I'm offered—how much? How much do I hear to start the thing?" "One thousand dollars," said a small man with a squeaky voice, standing directly below the auctioneer. One thousand dollars!" roared the auctioneer. "Put that man out! If I hear an offer of less than four thousand dollars there'll be trouble!" „„„ "Four thousand dollars!" called out -o7d Dake, iu his bold, liars!) voice. P^^f •». tapy ,. las nttitotiaii to Ijto endlton be taken Hi. and died after a,wwk's sen. Amonc Us lot instructions to me was a request that I should com* Ea»t and pay Lyman Hart themoney due him, with full intereat. Marc than this, he charged me to add to it any sum that might be needed to free Lyman Hart from debt I was solemnly urged to do this to show my father'* lore and gratitude to one who, he the poorhouse, if Lyman Hart didn't meet the keeper of the poor farm with old Nancy in his wagon, and because •he was wailing and crying, what did fcyman do? He just got right out of his wagon and lifted her and her poor little bundle of clothes into it, and took her home with him, and kept her there until she died, two years later." "He said he did it because old Nancy and his mother had been great friends, and because he said Nancy had been good to him when he was a boy, and had nursed his mother through her last sickness. That was Lyme Hart all over." Lyman, in his great generosity, had Often loaned money unwisely. He had endorsed notes for others because they jwere unfortunate, and he had bad Tery many of the notes to pay. The generous man had recognized, possibly ftrithout sufficient carefulness, the high law comprehended In the words, "Bear ye one another's burdens." This liad made him a brother to any one iu trouble, and opened his heart to every cry of the needy. And now he was to be sold out under the red flag of the Sheriff! Every one knew that old Nathaniel Dake would bid in the house and farm, for he held heavy mortgages •pon them, and there was no one else In the neighborhood able to buy them. Sue household furniture, live stack •ad farming utensils were also to be •old under a chattel mortgage, and the jfood man and his wife and their cbil- tdren would be left almost penniless. •Lyman had a cheerful and hopeful spirit, but it was no: to be wondered at that he was much cast down when the day of the sale came. He was saddened as much by a knowledge of the fact that those he had trusted bad been untrue to him as by the loss of Ma belongings. His plans for the future were vague and unformed. He was unfitted for anything but farming, and he did not wish to engage in any other occupation. He would, he said, "begin over again," but he did not know where or how he was to begin. The day of the sale dawned clear ••d bright. There had rarely been a fairer Juno day. The long piazza In froat of the house was filled with fur. attare and all sorts of household artl- •aM toon to be scattered far and wide. W» neighbors and strangers came in jFJMBt numbers to the sale and tramped "to and oat of the dismantled •one of them even peering into i and drawers. They all agreed Jt.wM-'too bad." but i that Lyman Hart worn •Now that's something like," said Ben Jarrold. "but it isu't enough. Give lire anotheFbTd! "iFs worth"eight thousand dollars this minute." On the outskirts of the crowd a man whom uo one knew called out iu i loud distinct voice: ''Five thousand dollars!" Every one turned and looked at him. Old Nat Dake started and stared at the stranger with a scowl. His mortgage was for four thousand dollars, and he had expected to bid in the farm for that sum. His savage glance did not disturb the stranger. He was a tall man, not over thirty years of age, with a smooth, sunburned face. "Now that is something like, ladies and gents!" roared Ben Jarrold. "Five thousand will do very well to begin with, but it isn't near its value. I'm offered five thousand dollars. Five thousand, five thousand dollars. Five thousand, five thousand, am I offered six?" "Fifty-oi-e hundred!" called out Nat Dake. "Fifty-five hundred!" said the stranger, and poor Lyman's face brightened. This would enable him to pay airof"hisdebts" antTsave "his"furniture and farming implements. said, was the friend of the friendless and the helper of the helpless. My friends, I am here to pay that debt" There was a wild outburst of applause, in the midst of woich Lynian Hart stole forward ami put his arms I around Harvey Mercer and hid his ' bearded face on, the young man's shoulder. When the applause had died away, Nat Dake, his face a picture of baffled desire and fierce resentment, said, snceringly: "All right, young man, all right, but it won't be very long before Lyme Hart will be sold out by the Sheriff again, if he's as big a fool in the future as he has been in the past." When that time comes, we will hope that some other man who owes him a debt of gratitude will come to his relief," said Harvey Mercer, and the rrowd cheered again, while the dis- :omflted creditor stalked down the ;tcps, thumping each step saiagely with his cane. In ten minutes Lyman Hart's neighbors, men and women, were at work jutting down carpets and carrying iu "urniture, and old Ann Haskins said o Susan Marsh, as they made a bed tojretiicr in one of the bedrooms that had been restored to order: "I ailu* have thought, an' I allus will think, an' I allus have said, an' I allus will say, that the Lord don't allow any [1 to go unrewarded. He puts i it down in the book of His romem- —Dake-'s face was dark with rage, and his keen gray eyes flashed as he snarled out: "Fifty-six hundred!" "Fifty-seven!" cried the stranger. "Fifty-eight hundred!" cried Nat Dake, between his set teeth. He loved money, but he loved his'own way, and he would spend his dearly prized money rather than be thwarted in anything on which he had set his heart. "Fifty-nine hundred. 1 " tailed out the stranger, coolly. "Six thousand!" almost shrieked Nat Dake, whereupon the stranger called out: "Seven thousand!" "Ah:-! This is something like!" exclaimed the auctioneer, gleefully rubbing his hands. "How is it. Brother Dake? Will you make it seven thousand five hundred?" Nat Dake hesitated a moment; then he said, savagely; "Yes, I will!" "Good enough!" said Ben. "And now will the gentleman-—" "Eight thousand!" exclaimed the ;entleman, whereupon Nat Dake, livid with rage, mounted the piazza steps and called out, defiantly: "Who be you, and how, does any one know that you're making a real bony tidy bid? There's some trick about this! Folks ain't round giving eight thousand dollars for five or six thousand dollar farms! Who be you, and. what proof have we got that you mean what you say?" The stranger came forward, mounted the steps, and stood on the other side of Ben .Tarrold. "My name," he said, "is Harvey Mercer, and here, is evidence of my good faith." He drew forth a large leather wallet bulging with bills, and held it up for an to see. "Some of you," he said, "remember David Mercer, who lived here maiiy years ago." "I do!" cried several voices at once. "He was my father, and I was born on the old Mercer place down by the ferry, about two miles from here. Lyman Hart and my father were boys togetht.-, and when, after they were men, trouble came to my father, Mr. Hart befriended him in many ways. He became security for my father on .a note for fifteen hundred dollars, and the first mortgage the generous man put on this place, I am told, was 'to raise the money to pay that note. "My father went t* the West, where lie engaged in mining, but for twenty- Ire yean iie experienced* nothing bat 111 lock. He knew wone poverty then ever be aaew bere, until three ago, wfcfn, bv Wertern ' " ; - : "' brance. an' some time, an' iu some _\y:iy,. He lets., it be .known_.tha.t_.He. ain't forgot it." "I reckon you're right, Ann," said Susan. "I know that you are." said Lyman Hart, who chanced to overhear what Ann had said.—Waverley Magazine. How He Tried to Get Solid. "Now."' said the new asistant editor of the Eagleville Beak, "I am going to arrange matters so that it will be easy for me to marry into a wealthy family." Old Horace Bowlders, the richest man in the town, had been out riding a spirited horse during the afternoon. The animal had become frightened, and Mr. Bowlders had jumped off. No damage whatever was done, but the assistant editor saw an opportunity to play a good card or two, and he was not disposed to miss it. Henrietta Bowlders was not the prettiest girl in town; still, she was what might be called good looking, and, being an only child, her prospects were excellent. So Mr. Snipley, the assitant editor, who was running the paper alone while his chief was away fishing, hurried to the office of the Beak, after seeing Horace Bowlders jump from his horse, and wrote this item for the afternoon edition: "Everybody in Eagleville will be sorry to know that while our esteemed townsman., Horace Bowlders, Esq., was out riding his spirted charger to-day the animal became frightened and the old gentleman, who is still as spry as a boy in spite of his many years, dismounted without sustaining any injury whatever."—Chicago Times-Herald. The "\Vnj- Things Happen. The following excerpt from Margaret Macauley's. little volume on her brother, which was printed iu ISGi for private circulation, shows Macauley's catlike ability always to fall on his feet "One day Tom said jokingly that there -are some things which always inclined him to believe in the predominance to evil in the world. Such, he said, as bread always falling on the buttered side and the thing you want always being the last you come to. "Now, I will take up volume after volume of this Shakespeare to look for "Hamlet." You will see that I shall come to it last of all.' The first volume he took up opened on 'Hamlet.' Every one laughed. 'What can be a stronger proof of what I said? cried he; 'for the first time in my life I wished what I was looking for would come up last, and for the first time in my life it has come up first.' "—Argonaut. The More the Merrier. As a certain country manor in Derby- j shire there lived many years ago a jocund squire noted as much for his love of a good joke as for his sporting [•ropensirii's. Being out hunting one day, he rode so well that the only rider iu front of him was his servant, Sammy. He. however, soon disappeared, as, in vaulting a hedge, be dropped into an old disused quarry on the other side. The squire, close on Sammy's heels, immediately followed. He found Sammy shouting warning as hard as his lungs would permit, but he stopped him with: "Sam! Sam! Sam: tha' silly fool; hold thy noise and let a few more come in."—London Spare Moments. A Peculiar Predicament. Says the London Graphic! "A claim ant at Liverpool protested against the 'gross Injustice' of putting him on the list of voters .•»«• n woman, which, the Liberal agent said, had been caused by a printer's error. In the list the applicant appeared u Louisa Instead cf Loula, This man la*clearly not a woman,' said the Revising Barriattr. 'Bat be appear* ia th* list as a woman. and I lack <ht power to auk* aava. I'matHMa. ' y moam ago, warn, a w«t*ra pa* ana I lack to* p»w*c • la»o* h. '«»«* jtrica.-.. ^ ,';;..-y J *.*,* - r rwjiglg He It in the a far woman the a she and a her are it postal a In the ar making or ,', VvT'i ''"fy*-*':

Clipped from
  1. The New Bethlehem Vindicator,
  2. 16 Nov 1900, Fri,
  3. Page 1

maribeth_sanford Member Photo

Want to comment on this Clipping? Sign up for a free account, or sign in