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Miscellany: One Of The Smiths: Chapter I

Miscellany: One Of The Smiths: Chapter I image
Parent Issue
Day
20
Month
January
Year
1845
Copyright
Public Domain
OCR Text

I aïways write stories in a hurry. The truth is, l do not begin till I arn driven to it, and, I may add, that once begun. I might never end, but for getting tired. - On I hurry, like a wild horseih the harness, till completely exlmusted, I am forced to lay down the pen, and leave my herp, pcrhaps tothe Fates. It shall not be so this time. I will write only five chapters - and these shall be short - at least ono of them. So here jt endeth. CHAPTER II. ] don't say Bill Smith was the laziest man that ever Hved, but hewas decidedly the laziest I ever savv. And I will venture to say further, that nis match could not be found in Peppere'boro. There was whcre he lived - there he lives DOW. Well, Bill was a toper - for that man Bever lived who was toó lazy tó drink. - Of course, he was Dot one of the real tear-down-drag-outsort; but then he drank hard, and was gonerally pr&tty boozy toUfar da evtning; for haas top lazy to get áronk try in tho 6%y. Oho orening, jut about two years andthree months ago, he was very drunk. - The nigbt was cold - the wind blew very fiercely, and the light snow swept wildly over the ground, and added terrcr to the howling of old Bóreas. That night Bill was full two miles from his own miserable hovel, snugly ensconced behind some old boxes and barrels, in one corner of a fillhy rum shop - how carne he there - - so far from home - I do not know, but will guess, that ho hnppened on board some farmer's wagon or sleigh that passed his house; and he was too lazy lo get out till the vihicle stopped at the little groggery. 'Bill, you must clear out,' said the rumseller. Bill made no answer. 'I say Bill, you must clear out - go home.' Bill began to snore - he was sleepy, and tired to boot; he always was. 'Hallo, Bill- I say, come crawl out and go home; 'tis most nine o'clock.' 'Wak awhile,'said Bill, 'don't be in a hurry - there's nothing gained by hurrying.' 'But I must shut up and go home. - There's nothing done here, and I can't afford the firewood.' Bill roused upa little - not much, but a little, and winked. Perhaps he would have said something, but just then the door opened, and astranger walked in. - ííe had rode a long distance, and seeing a light in the ':nimmv" had called to inquire how far t was to a public house. 'Just two miles anda half,' said old Boozle, the rumseller; and here's a chap that's going e'enamost there- lives right on the road.' Bill roused up a little more; perhaps there was a chance to ride, and it would not do to lose it. Aftër a little more cereinony, that may be imagined, and a little assistance thnt Bill aclually needed, tbc two got into the sleigh and rode otr. 'I 'spose I live here,' said Bill, when tb sleigh had gol a few rods past his house. The .stranger reined up his nag, and Bill got out. He had begun to get sober, and would have thanked the gentleman for his nde, but he was rpaíly too lazy, and so he jolted slowly back to his own door, raised the latch and went in. CtTAPTKR III. There was quite a stir in Pepperelboro thenextday. A stranger had come to town, and it was pretty generally rumored that he was to deliver a temperance lecture that evening in the village school house. Here and there litllegroups were gatliered fogether, talking the matter over - for indeed it was something new to have a temperance lecture ihere; the oldest inhabitants could'nt remember the like of it. Bill's appetite, and an itching to ascertain who and what the stranger was, urged hini ns far as the tavern, where he arrived about noon. Of course he made one of the group there, whotalked about the stranger and his business; though precious little did he do tovvards rnaking up the conversation. 'Are you going to jine the new pleJgf: Bill?' asked an old covey, as he entered the bar-room. Bilí did'ht know exactly what answer to make; and so, true to his nature, he made none at all. 'How is it, únele Simón,' continued the same voice, addressing another of the loungers, 'are you going to jine the Thomsonians to-night?-they say it is all the go in the city." 'The Tkomsonians1 said únele Simón, 'I don't know - they allow steaming it, I suppose.' Old Simon was ho wit of the town, and of course this sally proJuced a laugh. 'The devil a bit,' answered a squarerigged, doublé breasted fellow, who had stood in the corner of the room all the while. 'I'vc seen 'em and hearn 'etn lecture too, but they don't hold to stenmin' in any way as 1 know; nor they ain't Thompsonians neither.' 'What are they, Sam?' asked unele Simon. 'They are Teetolallcrs? said Sam, 'and they don't hold to drinkin' a drop of ü- quor.' '■Afore folks? added Simon, with eraphasis: and here was another laugh. Bill heard all this, but took no part, even in the laugh, for he was too lazy. - Towards night the company dispersed, the great portion of them to meet at the school house loo. The lecturer was there, and in g ood time began his discourse. He dwelt long on the evil consequences of ntemperance; and, among other things, showed that it uniformly produced laziness - even a disregard to those dutios on the performance of which depends cleaulmoss, health, and hnppiness. Bill heard the wholo, and winkoeï.- Thoothors heard and lookod at Bril. Pesety tha pledgo w&al roond, beginning with unele Simon, ho waa tbeoldest man and biggest toper in the house. 'Pil sign if Bill Smlth will,'saidSimon. 'And I too,' said the next - and the next - - nnd - 'But who is Bil! Smithí'asked thestranger. 'There he sits,' answered one, pointing toa seat near the door: for Bill had not got far into the house - for he was too lazy. The pledge was carried to him, and he was requested to sign it. 'I can't,' said Bill, 'Pmtired.' 'But you must,' said the stranger; here are thiee or four more waiting for you tosign.' 'Don't you see I cantT answered Bill. 'And besides, 'tisn't best to hurry; there's nothing got by hurrying. I'm tired.' The audience - Bijl looked sober; he was evidèntly thinking about something, and this required an efFort. - 1 suspect he was thinking of the lecture, and his own laziness. Presently he spoke. 'I 'spose I might sign it, and make a speech too,' he said; 'for though I'm a little lazy now a days, seeing there's nothing to do, ƒ used to he as smart as any fellow in Pepperelhoro.' 'S you were,1 said Simon; 'now sign the Thompsonian Society Bill, and make a speech.' 'I guass, on the whole, I had better wait,' said Bill; 'perhaps scme other time would do as well.' But the stranger insisted, for full half an hour, and strange to say,. Bill finall y signed the pledge. 'And now make a speech,' was the cali from every part of tbe house. Bill would'nt make a speech that night, and the topers would'nt sign the pledge till the speech had been made. 'Pil come here next Tuesday night. and make a good long speech,' said Bill, vith more energy than he had displayed for monrhs before; if uncle Simon and tne rest of you will come and hear me.' CHAPTER IV. 'Tis strange to sriy whot havoc intemperance will mnke of intellect and ambition. When VVilliam Smiih was twentyfive years of nge, he was considered thé most i-nd.ustrious' intelligent, and nobleheartedof all the young men ín his native town. He was the prideof the circle in which he moved, and bid fair lo shine a bright ornament in the most respectable society. He married him a wife, and !or a time lived happily. But the seeds of intemperance had been plnnted within him, and in ten years he had become "Lazy Bill.51 Bill went home that night, after the temperance meeting, and told his wife vvith some considerable eiïbrt, what hohad done. 'Pve signed the total abstinence pledge, Kate, hit or miss, and next Tuesday I am going to preach.' At first h'is wife would not believe a word of it: but the next day, the indicalions of a cfrange for the beiter were too strong 1o go unnoticed, and she adrnilted that 'something must be in the wind.' Thesigning of the pledge dated from Wednesday, and Fridciy, Bill did what he had not done lor two years; he worlied all day - mended his windows, put new shingles on his roof, hauled fire-wood on his hand-sled, &c. Saturday, Monday and .Tuesday were simularly spent; and when the temperance meeting carne, on Tuesday evening, hebrushed up his old coat, took his wife by the arm, and tugged silently to the school-house. The audience had got there before him, for every one was anxious to hear what Lazy Bill could say on the subject of Temperance. Old Simon had seated himself close to the desk, that he might have better opportunity to play off his pranks, and exercise his powers of ridicule. But whenSmith entered - looking so changed - so noble - so Jigniñed, comparatively, the old man crept away, abashed, and apparently astonished. - ;Can this be Lazy Bill?' he mentallyasked; and the more he asked the questioh, the more he was puzzled toanswer it. - Pretty soon Smith commenced: 'Ten years ago I was respectable. industrious, and happy. I carne into this noighborhood, uought me a few acres of land; built me a small house, got married. and went to work. We used to have social parties in those limes, and Sarah there, (pointing to his wife,) and I used to attend them. Sarah learned to knit and teil stories, and I learned to drink wine. Very soon I began to find myself impntient for the time of the next party to arrive; and when it carne, I was equally impatient to see the wine go round. - Finally I drank to excesa- even to intox catión- - at one of theso parties; and from that time, though for a white hfiartily ashamed of my conduct, I had less of sel respect, and more of the appotite for Iiqoor. I began to rrsit th taveriï aádthe little rum-shop down there at the othervillage, and vith others of like inclination and appetite, I spent my time lounging about these groggeries - sitiing now in the sun, now in the shade, but never engaged in any more active business than whiltlinga pine stick, or tippling from a decanter of New Engiand rum. I lost, by degrees, all my am bit ion - became lazy and indolent, and you called me Lazy Bill. Ai first my wife fretied and scolded at my changed conduct; but this only mnde it worse. Then she cried and entreated - but this had the same effect, produced trouble, and I drank more rum to drown it. Drunkards are sure to find trouble enough when rum has become its only antidote. 1 drank - lost the little property I had accumulated - broke the heart óf my wife, nnd became finally heedless of everything. So I Iived alongtill last Wednesday night. You know what we heard then, and I need not sciy that 1 was convinced rum had made me "Lazy Bill," and caused m!1 r?iy trouble. I signed the pledge, and tll now I have kept it inviolate; and God helping me, I'il never drink anotherdrop of liquor as long as I live. Already I begin to feel the fires of ambition again in my breast, and lo imagine myself a man. My wife, ihere, is happier, and looks healthier; and my little boy smiles sweetly when I takê him in my avms. In short, I am a new man, vvith new feelings, and new hopes, and now I am going to lead a new life, regain, if possible, my character, and my property, and be happy. And I want my old companions to go vvith me. Sorne of you promised to sign tho pledge if 1 would, and nothing has befallen me to discourage that resol ution. I hope you vill cóme up here and redeem your promises.' There was a pause for some minutes. The audience seerned paralyzed with astonishment. OldSimonhad been seon to brush away something that had appnrently escaped from bet ween his eye lids, and all were looking to him for some movement that should break the spell of énchantment. Presently he aróse, walleed up silently to the desk, took upthe pen. and put his name fo the pledge. Now. the people seemed io brealhe freer; and one by one, every man and woman in that house followed his example. CHAPTER V. Five or six months ago 1 was passing throügh the little town of Pepperelboro, and recollecting some of the incidents relatcd ahove, bcthought me to ascertairi if Bill had kept his pledge. I could not recollect his surname, and was oLHged to inquire for "Lazy Bill," as of old. Nobody knêw him, or could teil whére he Iived. Finally, I called at a house, and interrognted the woman industriously for the wherenhouts of "Lazy Bill;" but she knew nothing of him, and turned to go away. Just then an old gentleman passed the house. 'There's únele Simón Leiglifon," said the wonian, 'and he khóvvs where your man lives, if any body does.' I hurried into the streef, andsoon ove'rtaking únele Simón, put to him lhe question, 'Where does Lazy Bill live?' 'Lazy Bill!' said he, 'I suppose you mean William Smith, the carriage maker.' 'That's his name,' I replied, 'though I did not know he was a carringe maker.' 'He lives on the old spot,' said Simon; 'just where he hr s lived for twelve yenrs, and he don't look imich like 'Lazy BilT now, I can teil you.' I hurried on and soon carne to the place where, two years before, I had dropped the miserable being called "Lazy Bill," whem I had taken from the groggery of the village below, to pilot me to a hotel. The old hovel had been torn down, and' on its sitèstood a pretty white cottage, surrounded with a yard of flowers, just withering irom the effects of an autumn frost. Bèyond was a large building, which from the sound proceeding from it, I judged to be the workshop of William Smith, the carriage maker. - Thither 1 bent my stops, and on inquiring for Mr. Smith, was pointed to a noblelooking workman in the fat hér end of the shop, whose manly bearing and healthy iooking countenanco wore eviden.ee enough that the pledge had remained un brok en. On my approach he recognized me, shook my hand heartily, and throwing ofl' his apron, invited me into his house. We walked in together, and there L found one of the prettiest and happiest families I had pver set eyes pon. The wife was all joy and contentment, the children all animation and beauty. The oldest boy was at work in the shop, but on Iearning that it was ;tho stranger" who had called, he carne in and appeured overjoyed tosee me. Our meeting there was indeed a glorious one; and" never shall I forget the wnr?n grasp of the hand that the fathsr gavo me, on taking my leave of hiin.'Teil my old acquaintance nt S - ■ - .' saidhe, 'ihat ikhazy BilV is now one of the happiest fellows in Christendom; that his wife and chikiren ace as gay as lfirk?. and lívely as crickets; that his industrv and his property have come back to hirn; and better than all, that not one drop of fiqiïor is bought or sold, or drank, m the little town of Pepperelboro.'

Article

Subjects
Signal of Liberty
Old News