Rensselaer Union, Volume 2, Number 25, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 March 1870 — THE PEASANT’S SAVINGS. [ARTICLE]

THE PEASANT’S SAVINGS.

It was a beautiful, warm rammer aft er - ’ noon'among the Harz mountains. I was going to the Brocken, and loltefedthrough a little valley, along a narrow path which led to the mountain side. A poor old man with thin, snow white hair was sitting by the wayside ; he had along, IrfxHtn from a blackthorn, between nre knees. I eat down by hint, asking his name and way of life, and the old man told me that be had formerly bepn a forestkoeper,; thett was no rock which could Wciinibed, and" no ravine ho had not over and over ag-iin Explored. “ Anu do you see,” he said, “ those fir trees up there? I planted them, livery day when I went to- the ‘mountains, I carried my game-bag full of earth up with me, and there in the crevices where the rocks gave me the least chance, I fixed it firmly; and then I waited till the grass and briers grew out of it, and made the earth cling closer to the rocks; then I carried the saplings up and planted them. My Fabian, my eldest, who was long in the army, and at last was killed by a falling tree, often helped me about it. If you come up you can see the trees; I can’t see them now very well.” “ And with whom do you live now ?” I asked. “ With whom? with whom?” repeated the old man, gasing at me. “With nobotly. Ihave nobody left in the world. Tea, I have a son left, he may be in the world, but I don’t know!” “ And what do you live on ?” “I have my pension, twenty-four thalers a year; but everything is so dear how.”' “ But doesn’t your son write to you, or sendhriything?” ■ ■ “He never learned to write, and one can only Send when he has Anything himself., But he’s the best fellow in the world, a good child, a faithful child, he left me his whole property. But I don’t touch it, it’s just as it was. lam no spendthrift. No, Henry, your father won’t rob you of your money?’-.... . - With many digression* I heard the following stih-y* ■. ■ # < Jt might be about eighteen years before, ' perhaps longer, for the old man was very upcertain in his figures—“ thirty years Ago," he said of cveryuiing, tvhich might have taken place oulymjo ,or three years before—the youngest son of the keeper had been tgmpt©d»to emigrate to America, the country where, as the old man expressed hirttfelf, there were, great forests that had neVer t;ceh arf’axe, to be cleared away before tho Settlors., .The son had an inheritance from hie mother, amounting to a hundred thalers. The old man ivoulu nothear of anything but Henry taking his money with him; it belonged to him, and he did not know how much he might want the snare cash over there in the strange land. His son had t<r But on Saturday, before hiedeparttitc, he • went to take leave of the pastor and got him to Write down for him the mittiber of the peplm which Was to be sung next W/’A church- In the night he hade M father good-ijytf, and his fast words were: "Father, when yob sing the psalm to morrow in church, thtiHk kindly oHnc.” In thonight the old map* who was now alone, got up several tbnes; it seemed to him that lift heard his son moving about in tlio Aittlng room, but no one was there. Hl’ had certafrily forgotten something, thought the old' man,’and now his spirit is edmihg to find it arid take it away. The ~.<44-iW/it not free fWm’ superstitions, pnd Wonfff be no kindness to On the Window Bill, where roaenaary amj .pinks .wejjp blooming, a bupch ot which the wahderer had' sfiidt ■ip lift hat, lay the old man’s hymn-book, wrapped up as his wife nad always kept ~ it, piece of potton; on this », cotton J4ie moonlight, shining down from n J . ... « v

the mountains. played so strangely and the old.&MtUa hhv Knf CKK’nWit gave him something to grasp. At last he went back to bed. IpßSfc <j>frh|ng, Whenrrthe bells were ringing, the old fna’n'wrtit to church with his hymn-book under his arm ; he did not data jt nntrfLUs. apyer till he was in ' Mli3rfn,'tfieifiafclre<l<i the number of the psalm which was hung up and began to turn over the leaves slowly with h|s and his exclamation sounded: above the t ® L 9<BEPi'£ < t¥lN T X' what havfc you done? ■’rnenniiy tire hundred thaler note of the wanderer, and it was his’wlMftiproperty—there it Jay between the leaves. “ Henry put it there, and thatil the* BBMw.tibafche.Baid yesterday : ‘Father, when you sing the psalm to-morgow; think, kindly of me? ’’ The old man could not join in the first verse, but with the second he began as if he had the voice of his youth again. AS they? tttne out ov«hurch, fcl< were talking of the goodness and faithfulness of the wanderer to his father. The old it hurt him, but this he scarcely noticed, 'initfvnttie money stiJL ed it, and it still lies in the same place Where he put it.” 1 60 said the phi. phn, and I had to go to the village with him rfhft 1 itftoibis little house. lay, tire hymn-book on the window sill, wrapped in h White catton cloth. Thu roan took the book out, and to be sure, at the psalm numbered 134 lay the hundred' thaler Mote? < ■ .zvß... r , *’ Why haven’t you put it out at interest,” I asked. The old man laughed, and replied at last: “That’s what air the’pWifle say, everybody, one’s just as wise as another, thiiik will “ You have the best interest from the meqey, you. feed yoyrself on the good thought that your Sort Is' stf nxeeilotit,” I answered.. ... . ■ “There," tn<fr&!” cried‘the bld man, “you are the first person who has understsofl iU »,X9»iJhust certajnly have enjoyed much kindness from people because •jtou understand so well. ..You’re not stupid, I saw that directly.” " The' bld man wswqnite hap.jy £o find a .man as shrewd as himself. And when I 'askeft him left. the. book lying tbqre so openly, whether he was not afraid ’tnat sonie one mfght break a pane of glass and steal it, as might easily be done, lie ■answered smiling— Aiid Uip smile lightpd his withered face wonderfully: one would, do that. Tho people here about know what is in ft,‘and any of them would ratherreut off his hand than steal thb brfok.* But do you mean that those who don’t know? People d°n’t steal hymn-books, this guards it better than bolts and bars.” , .The old tpaa wtuit back with me a part of the wsy-lo the place Wlierp I had first met him. Then we badc each other a friendly good-bye. When I was in tho Harz mountains again last year, I did not find the old man in his plaice —he lay under the sod. But his byinn book with the monepis ip the pastor’s keeping, and in a public advertisement the son is summoned to receive it, otherwise both will Uli to the nearest re.-, lations.

' '-Thi Paris (Jaloie of-a raccht date gives an account of a horrible and mysterious affair in Spain, which it says it would not believe had nqt the details been confirmed by a letter from its own correspondent. The story is that on February 17 a band Ofipeopjff broke into a houeo id AJeirca village, In Valencia,' by 1 making a hole in the roof. The owner of the house.was M. Baluda. He was in bed with his wife. The invaders pulled them out ot bed and put gags in their mouths, and then they went.to the rooms where six children were sleeping, whom they bound/■with cords, and then in sight of their parents, tore out their eyes and tongues. Afterward they cut off the feet of M. Baluda and his eldest son, named A’incent, but purposely left a tendon near the hejjl unsevered, and then they hung them lip head downward. After this they ransacked the larder, made a good breakfast, jeering at their Victims all the time, and left the house lit daybreak. Two of the villains had been arrested. A young man, named John Bradshaw, was accidentally killed while recently gunning with some friends near Lynchburg, Va. All but one of his companions started for town to obtain assistance, the other remaining to watch over his remains. Two favorite hunting dogs of his, however, at once Approached their dead master; andby piteous moans Mhibited theif j'rief, and in the most savage manner drove off the youth who had been left They then took position close by the body, arid even when friends from the city, reached the spot, they refused to let any of them come near; and it was only after rough means were adopted, and one gentleman suverylv bitten, that the digit driven off, an<£ the body cared for. Tna shortest sermon on record was once preached by the Irish Dean Kirwan. He was pressed, while suffering from ase- • vrire cbkJ, to preach .a charity sermon in St. Peter’s Church, Dublin, Jor . the benefit of the orphan children of the parish school. Ti>e church was crowded to suflocation, and the good Dean, on mounting the pulpit and announcing his text, pointed with his hand to the children in the aisle, and simply said: “There they aret” The Collection exceeded all belief. Tnq Prjnce at WaLeffionce when on a spree in Ireland, ting cassoclj. orxkjat of heavy coarse Irisi cloth. He hardly ever wore it, whgn at home, but one cold night took it as »comfortable garment, in which to attend the theatre. After the play, he was seen with it on at White’s Club and on the street, and within a week every loyal subject, who pretended to dress “ in the fashion," was wearing a long, tight coat of coarse cabman’s cloth. 3PATTO J ..... jjflsw ii. —• . A Boston young man, a Catholii* ifi. tended to be married on the evening of the Ist inst.; 'but at the last moment, " recollected that he had forgotten' 1 to procure a license. He dashed out of the house in pursuit Of the prized paper, but it was too tafcc. The office was closed. Lent began the next day, and, for forty fiays he must pine, as no marriage can be celebrated in his church during Lent. I'hk Legislature of Maine having mooted the question of' removing tho Btate Capital from; Augusta to Bangor, upon the iconsideratkwl /of one hundred thousand dollars being contributed by the dljl twenty-fivegentlemen have promised to furnish the dealrfca sum without delay.