Democratic Sentinel, Volume 5, Number 49, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 January 1882 — THE SILVER TANKARD. [ARTICLE]

THE SILVER TANKARD.

On a slope of land opening itself to the south, m a new thickly-settled town in the State of Maine, seme hundred and more years ago, stood a farm-house to which the epithet “ comfortable” might be applied. The old forest came down to the back of it, in front were cultivated fields ; beyond which was ground partially cleared, full of pine stumps, and here and there, standing erect, thg giant trunks of trees, which the sis& had scorched and blackened, though it had failed to overthrow them. The house stood at the very verge of the settlement, so that from it no other cottage could seen ; the nearest neighbor was distant about six miles. Daniel Gordon, the owner and occupant of the premises we have described, had chosen this valley in the wilderness, a wide, rich tract of land, not only as his own home, but, prospectively, as the home of his children and his children’s, children. He was willing to lie far oft’ from men, that his children n.ight have room to settle around him. He was looked upon as the rich man of that district, well known over that p >rt of the country. His house was completely finished, and was large for the times, having two storys in front and one behind, with a long, sloping roof; it seemed as if it leaned to the south, to offer its back to the cold winds from the northern mountains. It was full of the comforts of life—the furniture was a little shbwy for a Puritan, and when the table was set there was, to use a Yankee phrase, “ considerable ” silver plate, among which a large silver tankard stood pre-eminent. This silver had been the property of his father, and had been brought over from the mother country. Now we will go back to this pleasant valley as it was on a bright and beautiful morning in the month of June. It was Sunday, and, though early, the two sons of Daniel Gordon and the hired man had gone to meeting on foot to the Landing, a little village on the banks of the river, ten miles distant. Daniel himself was standing at the door, with ' the horse and chaise, ready and waiting for his good wife, who had been somewhat detained. He was standing at the door-step enjoying the freshness of the morning, with a little pride in his heart, perhaps, as he cast his eye over the extent of his possessions spread before him. At that instant a neighbor, of six miles’ distance, rode up on horseback, and beckoned to him from the gate of the incloEure around the house. “Good morning, neighbor Gordon,” said he, “ I have come out of my way in going to meeting to tell you that Tom Smith—that daring thief—with two others, have been seen prowling about in these parts, and that you had better look out lest you have a visit. I have got nothing in my house to bring them there, but they may be after your silver tankard, neighbor, and the silver spoons. I have often told you that these things were not fit for these new parts. Tom is a bold fellow, but I suppose the fewer he meets when he goes to steal the better. I don’t think it safe for you all to be off to meeting to-day ; but I am in a hurry, neighbor, so good-by.” This communication placed our friend Daniel in an unpleasant dilemma. It* had been settled that no one was to be left at home but his daughter Mehitable, a beautiful little girl about 9 years old. Shall I stay or go? was the question. Daniel was a Puritan. He had strict notions of the duty of worshiping God in His temple, and he had faith that God would bless him only as he did his duty ; but then he was a father, and little Hitty was the light and joy of his eves.

But these Puritans were stem and unflinching. I will not even take Bitty with me ; for ’twill make her cowardly. The thieves may not come ; Neighl>or Perkins may be mistaken ; and if they do come to my'house they will not hurt that child. At any rate, she is in God’s hands ; and we will go to worship Him, who never forsakes those who put their trust in Him. As he settled this, the little girl and her mother stepped to the chaise ; the father saying to the child, “ If any strangers come, Hittyj, treat them well. We can spate of our abundance to the poor. What is silver and gold, when we think of God’s Holy Word ?” With these words on his lips he drove off—a troubled man, in spite of his religious trust; because he left his daughter in the wilderness alone. Little Hitty, as the daughter of a Puritan, was strictly brought up to observe the Lord’s day. She knew that she ought to return to the house, but nature, for this once, at least, got the better of her training. “No harm,” thought she, “ to see the brood of chickens. ” Nor did she, when she had given them some water, go into the house; but loitered and lingered, hearing the robin sing, and following with her eye the bob’lincoln, as he fluttered from shrub to shrub. She passed almost an hour out of the house, because she did not wish to be alone, and she did not feel alone when she was out among the birds, and was gathering here and there a little wild flower. But at last she went in, took her Bible and seated herself at the window, sometimes reading and sometimes looking out. As she was there seated, she saw three men coming up toward the house, and she was right glad to see them ; for she felt lonely, and there was a dreary, long day before her. “Father,” thought she, “ meant something when he told me to be kind to strangers. I suppose he expected them. I wonder what keeps them all from meeting ? Never mind ; they shall see that I can do something, if lam little Hitty.” So putting down the Bible, she ran to meet them, happy, confiding, and even glad that they had come; and, without waiting for them to speak, she called to them to come in with her and said. “lam all alone; if mother was here she would do more for you, but I will do all I can and all this with a frank, loving heart, glad to do good to others, and glad to please her father, whose last words were, to spare of their abundance to the weary traveler. Smith and his two companions en tered. Now, it was neither breakfasttime nor dinner-time, but about halfway between both; yet tittle Kitty’s head was full of the direction, “Spare of our abundance,” and almost before they were fairly in the house, she asked if she would give them something to eat. Smith replied : “ Yes, I will thank you, my child, for we are all hungry. ” This was, indeed, a civil speech for the thief who, half-starved, had been lurkingin the woods to watch his chance to steal the silver tankard, as soon as the men folk had gone to meeting, “Shall I give

you cold victuals, or will you wait until I can oook some meat f” “We can’t wait,” wafl tke reply, “ EP ve 03 y°® have ready, as soon as you can.” “ I am glad you do not want me to cook fqr you—but I would do it if you did—because father would rather not have much cooking on Sundays.” Then away she tripped about, making preparations for their repast Smith himself helped her ont with the table. She spread upon it a clean white cloth, and placed upon it the ftilver spbons and the silver tankard full of “old orchard,” as was the custom in those days, with a large Snantity of wheaten bread and a ish of cold meat: I don’t know why the silver spoons were put on perhaps little Hitty thought they made the table look prettier. After all this was done she turned to Smith, and with a courtesy told him that dinner was ready. The child had been so busy in arranging her table, and so thoughtful of housewifery, that she took little or no notice of the appearance or manners of her guests. She did the work as cheerily and as freely, and was as unembarrassed, as if she had been surrounded by her father and mother and brothers. One of the thieves sat down doggedly, with his hands on his knees, and his face almost to his hands, looking all the time on the floor. Another, a younger and better-looking man, stood confounded and irresolute, as if he had not been well broken into his trade ; and often would go back to the window and look out, keeping his back to the child. 'Smith, on the other hand, looked unconcerned, as if he had quite forgotten his purpose. He never once took his attention off the child, following her with his eye as she bustled about in arranging the dinner-table ; and there was even a half-smile on his face. They all moved to the table, Smith’s chair at the head, one of his companions on each' side, and the child at the foot, standing there to help her guests, and to be ready to go for further supplies as there was need. . .. The men ate as hungry men, almost m silence, drinking occasionally from the silver tankard. When they had done, Smith started up suddenly and said “ Come I Jet’s go." “ What! ” exclaimed the old robber, “go with empty hands when this silver is here ? ” He seised the tankard. “ Put that down,” shouted Smith ; “I’ll shoot the man who takes a single thing from this house.” Poor Hitty at once awoke to a sense of the character of her guests ; with terror in her face, yet with a childlike frankness, she ran to Smith, took hold of his hand, and looked into his face, as if she felt sure that he would take care of her. The old thief, looking up to his young companion, and finding that he was ready to give up the job, and seeing that Smith was resolute, put down the tankard, growling like a dog which has had a bone taken from him. “ Fool! catch me in your company agan ; ” and with such expressions left the house, followed by the other. Smith put his hand on the head of the child a.nd said : “ Don’t be afraid ; stay quiet in the house ; nobody shall hurt you.” Thus ended the visit of the thieves. Thus God preserved the property of those who had put their trust in Him. What a story had the child to tell when the family came home! Ho.w hearty was the thanksgiving that went up from the family altar.

A year or two after this, poor Tom Smith was arrested for the commission of some crime, and was tried and sentenced to be executed. Daniel G rdon heard of this, and that he was confined in a jail in the seaport town, to waif for the dreadful day when he was to be hung up like a dog between heaven and earth. Gordon could not keep away from him. He felt drawn to him for the protection of his daughter, and went down to see him. When he entered the dungeon, Smith was seated ; his face w r as pale, his hair was tangled and njatted together—for why should he care for his looks ? There was no other expression in his countenance than that of irritation from being intruded upon, when he wanted to hear nothing, 6ee nothing more of his fellow-man. He did uot rise, nor even look up, nor return the salutation of Gordon, who continued to stand before him. At last, as if wearied beyond endeavor, he asked: “What do you want of me ? Can’t you let me alone even here ?” “ I come,” said Gordon, “to see you, because my daughter told me all you did for her when you—” As if touched to the heart, Smith’s whole appearance changed ; an expression of deep interest came over his features ; he was altogether a changed man. The sulien indifference passed away in an instant. ‘ ‘ Are you the father of that little girl ? Oh, what a dear child she is ! Is she well and happy ? How I love to think of her. That’s one pleasant thing 1 have to think of. For once I was treated like other men. Could I kiss her once I think I should be happier.” In this hurried manner he poured out an intensity of feeling little supposed to lie in the bosom of a condemned felon. Gordon remained with Smith, whispered to him of £eace beyond the grave for the penitent, smoothed in some degree his passage through the dark valley, and did not return to his family until Christian love could do no m re for an emng brother, on whom scarcely before had the eye of love rested ; whose hand had been against all men because their hanils had been against him. I have told the story more at length and interwoven some unimportant circumstances, but it is before you substantially as it was related to me. The main incidents are true ; though, doubtless, as the story has been handed down from generation to generation, it has been colored by the imagination. The silver tankard, as an heirloom, has descended in the family—the property of the daughter named Mehitable, and is .flow in the possession of a clergyman’s wife in Massachusetts.