of Banks; he added it to the Oak Valley farm, which I do not regret now,
as it has fallen into the hands of our excellent neighbours, Mr. and
Mrs. Webb.
I knew the precise spot where my parents were buried, for poor Patrick
had described it accurately, making a drawing of it upon a piece of
paper which I shall preserve to the day of my death; I therefore placed
a tomb stone to each grave, with an inscription that satisfied my ardent
feelings, but which I have since replaced with others more suited to
their humble merits and my more mature judgment. Patrick’s grave was
about a mile from the city, and, with Mr. Bartlett’s assent, I had
caused a neat stone to be put over it, as many as six years before this
period.
My hard hearted old nurse was then and is still living; that fine,
promising boy that was lost at sea, and in whom you all took such an
interest, was her only child; for his sake I allow her a small yearly
sum, but she has no idea that I am the one that she so cruelly gave up
to the ill usage of the poor creatures around her. Poor Patrick, how he
hated her; she even taunted him when she afterwards saw him with me,
pretending to wonder why he did not dress me in such fine clothes as
formerly. He had, in his days of wealth, bought me a hobby horse, the
skeleton of which I found about three years ago in an old barn, and
which I knew immediately, for the initials of my name were carved
underneath by him; it is in complete order again. How it would gratify
the poor, kind old man, were he living, for he would know the motives
which influenced me in this trifling act.
What a tumult of mind I was in during these three weeks! The country had
not the tranquillizing effect that I expected, for I was striving to
recall far-gone images and thoughts; I went to every old tree, to the
brook, to the river, to the church, and to the pew in which my parents
sat, for of this too I had inquired of Patrick. I thought my all of
happiness was centred in this one place, and that, though human sympathy
was denied me, I might here pass the remainder of my days in peace and
quiet, worshipping my Maker, and in doing good to the poor creatures
around me. But the money was to be made to purchase these blessings, for
I had but eighteen hundred dollars, and it required as many thousands to
accomplish this desirable object, and Patrick’s last injunction for ever
rung in my ears—“never be idle.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account