Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1849-03-02
ANTI-SLAVERY BUGLE, SALEM, o.

ran like an arrow OF conscience through his
frame, he fled away.
Through the still moonlight that made long
shadows in the streets the spirit wandered,
itself as impalpable. 1t Aoated over the same
scenes which Tristan's mortal feet had tra-
versed but now, no jarring sounds of
traffic broke the holy quiet. A
watchman's heavy football resounded along
the pavement. When he had gone by, a wo-
man with a child crawled TO the same door
steps and crouched down.
When the man came past again, she crept
back into the shadow; but he perceived her
and asked what she was doing there. The
tone was hardly so rough as he used in the
daytime.
i have not been drinking-indeed, Sir,
have not was the faint answer; but I've
had no food to-day except a biscuit that a
poor gentleman in the Park gave my boy
We divided it between u.s.
Poor soul y said the Waterman, searching
in his pocket; here is half a loaf and some
| cheese. / can do without my breakfast once
in a way. Only don't lie there any longer
good woman; for there'll be somebody else
passing soon, and it isn't far to the station
house,
God reward you, Sir said the woman.
sThe world is much better than people say;
| 1 nave always lOullu IL " hhh, ii'tS "N"h
nv, and be patient. 1t is not long till morn
ing
II is not long TIL morning! Oh! what a
deep lesson Of endurance was in those words
of the poor desolate wanderer. And he-the
shirt who now with his opened eyes and
ears listened-had in his lifetime reviled the
world struggled in its darkness, nor waited
meekly for the dawn that would surely come
at last. He who, though poor, had never
wanted a meal-who, though wretched, had
found in his wretchcdness the blessed balm
of love-who, though friendless, had never
been altogether desolate-he had shrunk
from his despair like a coward-while this
lonely forsaken one lived patiently on, endur-
ing TO the end.
Tristan's spirits yearned repentantly over
the very world which he had in his bitterness
condemned. 1t was Of Gods creating, and
the smile of divinity rested on it yet. With
all its harshness, its GOODNESS, its suiierlngs,
it was still a blessed world.
On, on,over myriads of human spirits that
the bosom of the night-stilled city embodied,
did the spirit of Tristan ~pass-resting with
none until he came to a small, neat, subur-
ban dwelling. When last he crossed its
threshold, it had been with wild anger in his
heart and a curse on his lips. From that
threshold seemed yet to ring the parting words
of strife. ,
Brother Tristan, l have been careful and
you a spendIhrift. Every man ought to
think of himself first you were too great
a fool to do that. l shall not help you any
more. You may stop here one night more,
and then YOU must turn out and work in the
street--or starve there, if you like it bet
ter
And the terrible answer had been. mo,
but | will die, and bring Gains curse upon
your head
Could it be that the very roses which now
slept their still and fragrant sleep under the
moonlit porch had ever been shaken by the
breath of such words as these!
The spirit Of Tristan stood in his brothers
! chamber-self justifying even now. 70
| the man slept as peacefully as though MI
: mothers son had still lain within a few yard
: of him in the little closet from which he use'
: to call when, boy-like, they talked togethe
. half the long summer night. lie had n
thought of that dark, weed-tangled mass
st floating beneath the stars.
d But a little while, and the sleeper stirred
His breathing grew thick, and his forehead
veins were knotted, while incoherent word
s. came from his lips.
Tristan you are a dolt: | always wa
master-I always will be there be a goo
10 lad don't resist, and I'll play with yo
rs again. Ha, ha"
is And the almost boyish laughter Shove
n how many years that world-worn man ha
a re-traversed in his dream. Again he mu
it INJURED, though in a changed tone
of Father, don't say | ill-used him. Trista
n must take care of himself. Well, well, W
at are brothers, as you say. Dear father, onl
live a little longer, and | will treat him muc
n ..Izzl Nou. F,,hor hn no,
tent; | promise-I do promise! TTista
:, rive me your hand.-It freezes me. All!
! And the sleeping man leaped out of h
ID bed. and awoke in terror.
~ sWhat a fool [ have BEEN he muttere
- as he vainly tried TO re-assure himself tn
he he had merely been dreaming. But it
-. only because that stupid Tristan put me
II, such a passion. By-the-by, wonder if
has come in yet. His temper must be coo
- ed by this time. Hollo, Tristan called h
AT opening the room door.
m There was no answer-so he went to sc
A strange fear oppressed that once cold -hea
ted man as he saw the empty chamber
~ The threat which he had scorned as id
o. words, rang in his ear like a warning fro
u the grave. He trembled and sat down
- the bed.
s. Il hope the silly boy has done himself
harm. Yet he was always passionate al
So desperate. | wish | had not said what | di
= God forgive me if any evil comes TO tn
Nc poor lad ,
He drew aside the window-curtain 4
first streak of dawn already mingled with t
ed moonlight.
To- sThe fellow must be drinking he tried
n think. yet | don't think he had a shillin
rs Besides, he was always sober enough. Pc
'ut Tristan! ! wish he would come hOme.'
'st The man lay dow again-not in his o'
I'D room, but in his brothers.. He thought
he could sooner hear the street door open VIII
he there. He lay-listening to every breath
until he could rest no longer. Each sigh
IT, the moaning breeze that arose and shook