DANIEL NAYLOR'S LEGACY.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume VI, Issue 33, 8 February 1871, Page 4

DANIEL NAYLOR'S LEGACY.

When Enoch Wilton died, people said that Daniel Naylor, was sure to come into the possession of a handsome property, since Uncle Enoch was known to be rich, and Daniel Naylor was his favorite nephew. But when the will came to be read, they changed their minds, for the only clause it contained relating to Daniel Naylor, read as follows: — " And to Daniel Naylor, my beloved nephew', I give and bequeath the framed copy of the temperance pledge, to which under Divine Providence, I owe salvation from a drunkard's grave, as well as all the material prosperity which has gladdened my later years. And I recommend that he remove it frora its frame, and affix his j signature beneath mine, satisfied that he will fiud the pledge an unfailing source of wealth to him, as it has been to me." Daniel Naylor resented this, as he was a driuking man, and he indignantly stowed away his uncle's bequest among the old rubbigh in the attic, assuring his wife that as his uncle had treated him so shabbily, he should not trouble himself further about that piece of property any way ; and there, for years, it slumbered utterly forgotten. Meanwhile, Daniel Naylor's affairs went from bad to worse, for his drinking habits had deepened their hold upon him. One day, about five years subsequent to his uncle's death, he returned to his now squalid home, to tell his wife that tbe last cent of his little property had gone, and that " Squire Grip," the village lawyer, would, the next day, foreclose the mortgage upon their little place, leaving them homeless. " Ob, Daniel ! " exclaimed the poor womaD, in a tone of despair. " What shall we do ? Where can we go ? " " I do not know," he responded moodily — "to the poorhouse, perhaps." "Oh dou't say that, Daniel !'" pleaded the wife, "you still have your hands left, and if—" "I cannot get employment," he interrupted. " I have been to all my old employers, and they only shake their heads, and say they are sorry, but the times are so hard they cannot give me work. I shall have to give it up." "But you must not give vp — there must be employment somewhere." "I am unable to find it." His wife paused a moment in deep reflection. "If I will tell you how you can find employment, will you promise to fulfil the conditions necessary to obtain it ? " she asked at length in a very solemn tone. "What are the conditions ?" "Will you promise ?" "I would rather know the conditions first, and then if they involve nothing dishonorable, I will try." " The conditions are, that you quit your habits of intoxication, and sign the temperance pledge." Daniel Naylor started. " What ! " he cried in astonishment. " Do you intend to say that my having an occasional spree interferes with my obtaining work ? " "It certainly does, Daniel," was the sorrowful reply, "for I have heard at least one of your old employers say as much." "Who was it?" " Mr. Field." " What did he say ?" " You recollect the time about three ago, when you were — were — " "Drunk?" "Yes, when you were drunk. You were at work for him then, and when he came here after you, and I told him you could not come, he guessed the truth, and I heard him say to his clerk who accompanied him, as he drove off, ' Well, this ia the second time Dan Naylor has failed me when I wanted him most, but I shall be sure he does not do it again.' And that, my husband, is the source of all our adadversity, as I believe you yourself will admit when you think the matter over." It was Daniel Naylor's turn to reflect now, and for a few moments he did vigorously. " I believe you are right," iie said at last. " But what can I do now ? Our home is gone, and I have lost the confidence of my employers, so signing the pledge cannot amount to much." "Yes, it would amount to a great deal," his wife replied. "It -would restore your self-respect, and in a great measure you would be able to regain the confidence you have forfeited." Here was another period of silence, and then looking up, he eried — " Bring me a paper, and I will sign it, and may God give me strength to keep it!" " Why not sign Uncle Enoch's pledge ?" his wife inquired. I saw it lying up in the attic the other day, and if you wish I will bring it." " Certainly j that will save writing another." .„• '

The pledge was soon brought, and Daniel Naylor removed it from the frame, and placed it upon the table. As he did so, a roll of brown paper fell out of its back, and dropped unnoticed at his feet, f His name was speedily appended to the document, aud theu he turned to replace it on the frame. In doing this, his eye fell upon the small parcel of brown paper lying on the floor. Stooping to pick it up, he uttered a sudden cry of astonishment, as he behelcl the corner of a bank-note protruding, and with -fingers trembling with emotion, he undid the package to fiud seven one thousand dollar notes, and a scrap of paper on which was writteu, — " Is not the pledge a sure read to •wealth ? " | " God bless good Uncle Enoch !" kif exclaimed, fervently. " I can now take up the mortgage, and as for the pledge, I will keep that sacred as long as I shall live, for my own sake as well as in gratitude for this timely assistance." And his wife responded with a fervent " Amen." — Boston Nation.