Eastern times. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1846-1857, 1855-06-28

lady s face, and every now and then glanclng
round the room, as if to see that all was right,
and to find out where he could alter and i'm
prove it.
After this had gone on for short time, Joe
Mappin asked for Margaret in an uncouth
way, strangely softeued, like mastiff partly
mesmerised. The lady rang the bell, and
Margaret came. 1t seemed to be the usual
way in which she was called when the broker
was there, for she came at once, without Civ
ing the servant time to call her.
She also showed the most unaffected graft
tude and love for the old man, running up to
him and taking his hand, calling him dear
Joe,' as if she meant it.
'And is there nothing that the little lady
wantsp said Joe, patting her head, and
smoothing down her curls. Has she gowns
and bonnets enough, lady for you know she
has but to ask and have.'
why, Joe, don't wear such a frock in a
week " said Margaret, laughing; and it was
only last Tuesday | had that beauty, though |
hadn't yet half worn my blue silk
Joe Mappin drew her between his knees,
and held her face in his hands. Silver and
gold both, isn't good enough for you = he said
with almost passion of fervor in his voice
9 so never stint yourself for fear of me-
But they both said again that they had all
they could require, even if they were princess
es in fairy tower, Margaret added; and when
this assurance had been repeated to almost a
wearisome number of times, Joe Mappin was
content, and so relapsed into silence again
And there he sat, till the last rays of the sun
had gone, and candles had been brought-they
were of the finest wax, you may be sure-a
peculiar expression of tenderness on his mas
.iff's face, as he was reading a sweet chapter
lovingly-listening to the noble song admira-
bly,. And when it was quite dark outside, he
went away, muffled up in his greasy old cloak,
as he had come, and hebbing dramatically
when he came near his own quarters.
This then, was the brokers' secret, and this
was his history.
About fifteen years ago, Joe Mappin, almost
an old man even then, was called TO seize the
goods of Captain Thornton living at the
West End. The captain was one of those
gay, reckless, loveabe men, who by dint Of
sheer animal magnetism lived for years on
credit; and are only brought to account when
it becomes matter of life and death TO some
of the poorer creditors-those creditors as sor-
ry for their debtor as if it were themselves
going TO the Queens Bench, and accusing
themselves bitterly-the tender-hearted, at
least-for the trouble they are bringing on him.
Joe Mappin, The hardest of those of his pro-
fession, the iron-hearted, grasping broker,
who was believed not TO have single human
feeling, even he was touched by the gallant
irankness and gracious manner of his victim,
and as for the wife-that noble, patient, -glo-
rious woman, with her little one in her arms
something rose up in his heart for her which
he had never felt in his life before. 1t was an
infinite burning worship, such as he had read
of in the novels of the Libraries he had seized,
but which he had always thought trash, and
the mere mouthings of author fools. He fell
now for the first time, that there was such a
thing in the human heart as love-the love Of
beauty, the love of virtue, love for PHYS sake.
Captain Thornton was carried off TO the
Queens Bench, and after short term of i'm
prisonment, died suddeply of apoplexy. He
had lived too freely, and taken too little exer-
else; and being one of those fair haired men
| of sanguine temperament, who require absti-
| nence and work, who love luxury and ideness
he had met the fate any medicinal man would
have predicted. His wife and child were
| thus left alone in the world, penniless. The
broker never lost sight of them. Gifts from
an unknown hand, money, clothing, and ever
food, had kept Mrs. Thornton from want-al
the more welcome, as by her marriage she
had displeased her relatives, who were, per.
haps, not sorry of this excuse to avoid maintain
ing her. When the Captain died, then old Joe
Mappin came forward openly. He. told hel
how he had lived an Ishmelite life, without
pity, and without love he told her how she
had reused feelings in him-feeliDgs of rever
ence for humanity, such as he had never known
before and the old man bowed himself before
her as to superior being, and besought of hel
the privilege of maintaining her and her child
He wanted nothing, he said, but TO know they
were happy, and sometimes to hear them say
so. He had not relation in the world te
whom he could leave his money-not one tina
they would wrong by taking it. He hat
boarded, because it was his nature to hoard
| But he never knew for what end he saved
Now he had saved for Heaven, if she woulC
accept her life on these easy terms. They
were not hard and if she objected 10 his 60
ing to see her he would not. Indeed, indeed
it was her happiness, and that sweet baby's-
not his own-he cared for in the offers
| What could she do, that gentlewoman with
out friends or fortune, or the means of obtain
ing her own subsistence What could she
do, but look at her child, hold out her hands tt
that strange old man, and burst into tears o
gratitude, shame and sorrow, all mixed up to
gether, as she faltered out, Yes,' and tool
her fate from his hands! She understood the
truth Of his feelings, and was herself too truth
nd too v,DbI to 70 ICn