Something of a morbid curiosity, excited by what I saw, led me on
to take a closer view of the residence of Judge Hammond than I had
obtained on the day before. The first thing that I noticed, on
approaching the old, decaying mansion, were handbills, posted on
the gate, the front-door, and on one of the windows. A nearer
inspection revealed their import. The property had been seized,
and was now offered at sheriff's sale!
Ten years before, Judge Hammond was known as the richest man in
Cedarville; and now, the homestead which he had once so loved to
beautify--where all that was dearest to him in life once gathered
--worn, disfigured, and in ruins, was about to be wrested from
him. I paused at the gate, and leaning over it, looked in with
saddened feelings upon the dreary waste within. No sign of life
was visible. The door was shut--the windows closed--not the
faintest wreath of smoke was seen above the blackened chimney-
tops. How vividly did imagination restore the life, and beauty,
and happiness, that made their home there only a few years
before,--the mother and her noble boy, one looking with trembling
hope, the other with joyous confidence, into the future,--the
father, proud of his household treasures, but not their wise and
jealous guardian.
Ah! that his hands should have unbarred the door, and thrown it
wide, for the wolf to enter that precious fold! I saw them all in
their sunny life before me; yet, even as I looked upon them, their
sky began to darken.
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