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Page 69
"How did he find it out?" asked Charley. "For I suppose the chair could
not tell its own history."
"There used to be a vast collection of ancient letters and other
documents, in the tower of the old South Church," answered Grandfather.
"Perhaps the history of our chair was contained among these. At all
events, Samuel Adams appears to have been well acquainted with it. When
he became governor, he felt that he could have no more honorable seat,
than that which had been the ancient Chair of State. He therefore
purchased it for a trifle, and filled it worthily for three years, as
governor of Massachusetts."
"And what next?" asked Charley.
"That is all," said Grandfather, heaving a sigh; for he could not help
being a little sad, at the thought that his stories must close here.
"Samuel Adams died in 1803, at the age of above threescore and ten. He
was a great patriot but a poor man. At his death, he left scarcely
property enough to pay the expenses of his funeral. This precious chair,
among his other effects, was sold at auction; and your Grandfather, who
was then in the strength of his years, became the purchaser."
Laurence, with a mind full of thoughts, that struggled for expression,
but could find none, looked steadfastly at the chair.
He had now learned all its history, yet was not satisfied.
"Oh, how I wish that the chair could speak!" cried he. "After its long
intercourse with mankind--after looking upon the world for ages--what
lessons of golden wisdom it might utter! It might teach a private person
how to lead a good and happy life--or a statesman how to make his
country prosperous!"
CHAPTER XI.
Grandfather was struck by Laurence's idea, that the historic chair
should utter a voice, and thus pour forth the collected wisdom of two
centuries. The old gentleman had once possessed no inconsiderable share
of fancy; and, even now, its fading sunshine occasionally glimmered
among his more sombre reflections.
As the history of the chair had exhausted all his facts, Grandfather
determined to have recourse to fable. So, after warning the children
that they must not mistake this story for a true one, he related what we
shall call,--
GRANDFATHER'S DREAM.
Laurence and Clara, where were you last night? Where were you, Charley,
and dear little Alice? You had all gone to rest, and left old
Grandfather to meditate alone, in his great chair. The lamp had grown so
dim, that its light hardly illuminated the alabaster shade. The wood
fire had crumbled into heavy embers, among which the little flames
danced, and quivered, and sported about, like fairies.
And here sat Grandfather, all by himself. He knew that it was bedtime;
yet he could not help longing to hear your merry voices, or to hold a
comfortable chat with some old friend; because then his pillow would be
visited by pleasant dreams. But, as neither children nor friends were at
hand, Grandfather leaned back in the great chair, and closed his eyes,
for the sake of meditating more profoundly.
And, when Grandfather's meditations had grown very profound indeed, he
fancied that he heard a sound over his head, as if somebody were
preparing to speak.
"Hem!" it said, in a dry, husky tone. "H-e-m! Hem!"
As Grandfather did not know that any person was in the room, he started
up in great surprise, and peeped hither and thither, behind the chair,
and into the recess by the fireside, and at the dark nook yonder, near
the bookcase. Nobody could he see.
"Pooh!" said Grandfather to himself, "I must have been dreaming."
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