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Updated: May 25, 2025
Graffam," said Emma, who was in the garden when the poor man of the plain passed along the road on his way to the mills. We have before said that morning was not the time for this man to talk, and now he felt inclined, as usual, to pass this early salutation without notice; but it had been a long time since he had been accosted in that manner.
Seated upon her low door-stone was Mrs. Graffam, the poor woman of the plain. It was almost night; the sun had gone down, leaving a long red line upon the western horizon, which cast a lurid ray upon the gathering twilight.
Graffam a good service, by persuading your neighbors to feel and to manifest some interest in himself and his family; ask them not to allow their children to call him 'Old Pete, 'Old toper, &c., and twit him of riding a high horse." "I will," replied friend Sliver, "and I will do anything else in my power to help thee."
If I could command patience to treat him with civility, there might be some hope in that;" so turning toward him she asked, "Have you taken supper, Mr. Graffam?" The poor man hesitated.
It was no uncommon thing for people to address him in this way: "Good-morning, Pete! Feel sober after your last night's high, eh?" But a respectful "Good-morning, Mr. Graffam," now met his ear. "Can it be," thought the fallen man, "that I am still Mr., or are they mocking me?" He looked up, but saw neither jest nor scorn upon the fair face looking over the garden-wall.
"Perhaps so," the poor man said, and turned his head mournfully away: "if poverty were all " "He does not despise the sinner either," said Emma, softly; "so far from that, he delivered his only Son unto death for their sake." Graffam lifted his eyes from the ground, and looked seriously into her face. "There was a time, miss," said he, "when that was a precious thought to me.
Graffam, "and so is any one who can treat us with civility. We are very poor, it is true, and that is not our greatest misfortune either; but it is hard to be despised." While Mary was gone for the water, Emma sat looking at the sick baby, and noticed, that though the weather was warm, its skeleton limbs looked blue and cold.
Graffam; for you know, sir, that he does not hate what the world hates. He hates nothing but sin, and even from that his great mercy separates the sinner, and makes him an object of love. Jesus, Mr. Graffam, is the sinner's friend." "Yes, miss," replied the poor man; though Emma saw that the faith of this great truth did not enter his heart. There was no room as yet for so pure a faith.
At all times of the year, in summer's heat and in winter's snow, the children going and returning from school, were wont to meet "poor Graffam," a short man, with sandy hair, carrying an ax upon his shoulder, and bearing in his hand a small pail of "dinner;" for Graffam, when refused employment by others, usually found something to do at "Motley's Mills," which were about half a mile from the village.
No questions had been asked relative to a title-deed of the land upon which that house stood, or whether "poor Graffam" had a right to pile up logs in the middle of that plain, and under them to hide a family of six. Through many a long eastern winter that family had lived there, little known, and little cared for.
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