Tuesday, 16 October 2012

1903-02-28



In the Emerald Isle, a fortune was hunting for heirs not many years ago, and by good luck, the man for whom it as intended lived in Hamilton. He was one of the few survivors of a name with an estate and a bank account attached to it; and it was through the kindly offices of a lady living in Ireland that the solicitors, who had charge of the estate, discovered him. She was of the same name, but not near of kin, and when she saw in the native papers of her town that heirs were wanted, she traced it out that off here in Canada, where the Lady of Snows tramped over the dreary waste on snowshoes, lived a man who bore the same honored name. Communication was opened with our Hamilton man, and very wisely he made a trip to the old sod to put in his claim and prove that he was in direct line from the rich man whose spirit had passed the boundaries of the other world while his body was lying in the family vault with his forefathers. As in duty bound, our Hamiltonian called on the lady who had opened his pathway to the heirship of an old and honored estate. It cost money to prove his case in the chancery court, and as he had not taken much money with him, he was about running short when the lady, who was blessed with more than ordinary business sense, suggested that she would act as banker till he could get remittances from Hamilton. In due course of time, and after the lawyers had worked the heirs for all that was possible, a decree was entered and the estate was transferred to its new owners. There were some old mortgages to be paid off, and it was arranged that the income should be applied to the liquidation of the debts. The Hamiltonian returned home richer than when he crossed the ocean a few months before, and being a widower, he missed the kindly Irish face of the lady who had been the means of bringing him his good fortune. Of course, it was all to end as it does in the fashionable novel, but it didn’t. The Hamiltonian and the Irish lady became engaged, and she left home and native land to cast her fortunes with the man whom she had met under such strange conditions. He was in fair circumstances, being the owner of three or four brick houses that were paying a fair rental. Besides, he was making good wages at his trade, and then he was a man of more than average culture and bore an excellent reputation among those who had known him for years. The lady was accomplished and attractive and had some means of her own, so that the match was desirable on both sides. The day was set for their marriage, and a Hamilton minister, who had met the prospective bride a year or so before when she was making a tour of the part of Ireland where she lived, was engaged to perform the ceremony. Even a widower may have his romance, and certainly there was a dash of it in the coming together of this couple.

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          The day before the time fixed for the wedding, the man had business down in the Grand Trunk freight yards. He stepped from the track on which a train was coming toward him to the next track, not noticing that another train was backing down, and in a moment the life was crushed out of him. What a shock to the woman, in a land of strangers, who on the morrow was to have been a bride!

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          After the funeral was over, the relatives of the dead man put in a claim for the property, completely ignoring the rights, if any, the almost wife had. The man had promised that she should be provided for in case of his death, but it was not though possible that he had made a will and not have said anything about it to the woman who was most interested. However, she had confidence in the man and fully believed that he had left some paper recognizing at least his indebtedness for the money she had advanced when he was prosecuting his claim to the estate in Ireland. In a few days the minister whom she had met in Ireland, and who was to have performed the marriage ceremony, called to pay a pastoral visit of condolence, and to him the lady told the promises made to her by the deceased. The whole house was turned upside down, but not a scrap of paper that would help her case could be found. The heirs-at-law had already begun proceedings, and unless some paper could be discovered that would throw light upon the expressed intentions of the deceased in favor of the lady he was to marry, the chances were that she would not get a dollar. While the settlement of the estate was pending, the minister made another visit to the house, for he was strongly impressed that the deceased had left some paper that would do justice to his promised wife. Another thorough search was made, and they had about given up in despair when the minister saw the end of a folded paper sticking out between the clock and the wall. The lady’s faith in the man she was to marry was rewarded: this paper was a complete statement of the disposition to be made of his property in case of his death, and everything was left to the lady. The paper was a memorandum of what property he owned, and instructions to his attorney to draw up a will, and was regularly signed by his own name. There was no question as to the signature being genuine. The deceased had prepared the paper and had shoved it behind the clock till he would have time to take it to the lawyer. That time never came for death intervened. The settlement of the estate was amicably arranged between the lady and the other heirs, and when the debts due on the estate in Ireland are paid off, which is now being done by applying all the income from rents etc., the lady will have a handsome provision for her remaining years. She is now living in one of the houses owned by the deceased and has the rents coming in for present needs. There might be a moral attached to this local story. If you have property to leave, do not put off making a will. Life is very uncertain.

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          “Home again, home again, from a foreign shore.
           And oh! It fills my soul with joy to meet my friends once more.”

          That will be the refrain of the glad song of rejoicing that will resound in Hamilton next August, when the Hamilton Old Boys and Girls return to the dear old city in which their childhood and youthful days were spent. What a charm there is in the words, Home Again! And what rejoicing in so many homes to which the wanderers will return, though the visit may be brief. But in other homes there will be sorrow, for the loved ones who went out full of hope for the future have dropped by the wayside, the burden of life being too heavy for them to bear. What an army of boys and girls has Hamilton sent out into the world, and what gratification it is to those who remained in the old home to know that a large majority of them had a fair share of prosperity. Some have failed because they were not equal to the opportunities presented. However, Hamilton has occasion for pride in the records made by so many of her sons. Two who held seats in the United States senate were born in this city. Scores of them proved their valor on the field of battle during the civil war in the United States, in the Spanish-American war, and under the Union Jack in South Africa: and when Canada was threatened by Fenian invasions and the revolt in the Northwest, Hamilton boys were at the front to defend their native land. Some of the Old Boys who responded to the roll of the war drums will never return. There is a vacant chair in the home circle: their names will never be forgotten by mother or wife. Hamilton has made great advances even in the past quarter of a century, and the boys who went out since then will be happily surprised when they note the changes: but how much greater will the Hamilton of today seem to those who turned their faces southward forty or fifty years ago? One who is familiar with the names can go over to the Chicago and Detroit directories and there pick out scores of native Hamiltonians and of those who spent their boyhood days here who are prosperous in business. Of course all did not succeed, that is not to be expected; but a sufficient number got up toward the top to be an honor to their old town from which they emigrated in their youth. They are now organizing for the homeward trip, and unless all signs fail, Hamilton will be the center of attraction during the carnival days in the middle of August, There is wealth enough in this city to provide for a fund that will make the welcome a hearty one. Those Old Boys and Old Girls will come with full pocketbooks of their own, and every dollar the city spends in entertaining will be returned fourfold. “Home again, home again,” will be the glad song, and a right hearty welcome will Hamilton give its sons and daughters.

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          A handsomely dressed woman is always attractive to the eye, and when the crowning piece is a dream of the milliner’s art, the picture seems to be complete. But when those broad-topped hats, with their wealth of trimming and plumes, come between you and the preacher in church, there is aroused a spirit of condemnation that if expressed in plain Anglo-Saxon would not sound well in the sacred edifice. Why is it that ladies will persist in wearing their hats in church or at lectures when they have the good taste to take them off when they go to the Opera house? The obligation to be courteous in church should be s binding as in the Opera house. Last Sunday night two lady-like young girls, with very broad-topped hats, sat in one of the middle pews of a church. It was impossible to see the preacher or even the choir at times for the heads of the girls kept bobbing around and then would come together as they whispered to each other some tidbits of gossip about others in the audience. Probably they never thought for a moment what discomfort they were to those who sat behind them. When the delegates from the United States and Canada to the Epworth League convention were in Massey hall, Toronto, some five years ago, the broad-topped hats of the ladies spoiled the pleasure of a large part of the audience, even of those who were adding to the discomfort by wearing hats themselves. The chairman at one of the meetings was a man of practical good sense, and from his position on the platform he could see the audience craning their necks to see as well as hear the different speakers. He asked a speaker to stop for a moment while he made a request, and that was for the ladies to take off their hats. Everyone gladly responded and the change was immediately felt by all. After that there was no call for the request, for the ladies took off their hats before the exercises began. In all theatres and concert halls, it is recognized as the part of good breeding for ladies to sit with their heads uncovered. Why should not the churches adopt the same plan? If the prominent ladies in each church would decide to remove their hats during the service, and act in unison, the custom would become popular, and the ladies themselves would be benefited as much as the men. Try it, ladies, and see how the plan would work.

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