Kenosha tribune & telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1856-1859, 1857-11-12
Then I'll come tomorrow morning,

master say ne nau cnaHSeu hio haAnu
your pictures are so dear Responded
the youth; and with that shut the doc
| in the old mans face.
well, God is good gasped poo
Nicholas Drew, turning off the step
after lingering few seconds; God II
good. / might suspect that He has
forgotten Nevis Court but | know
He has not; His time has not come yet
that's all. / wonder when it wilE'
A woman came up, and begged of him
he tried TO evade her, but she followed
him closely.
Master, for the love Of Heayen-fol
the love of the mother that bore YOU
Her voice was hoarse and feeble, but the
echo of her words, 'for the love of tbs
mother that bore YOU pursued him hike
d waiiing prayer. He turned back, and
found her standing ON the Barbiean
bridge, gazing down into the blackness
| Come away what are you thinking
about?' he asked harshly, for his voice
was toned to match his grim face.
4 can't tell; drowning, maybe. It is
an easy death, they say was the whis-
pered response gav
Nothing of the sort, it is dreadful
When anything tells You that, shut Your
ears, it is damnation to hearken.
Nay master, but that is hard; as
well die at once as die by inches. Who
condemns me to live, and gives me no
means?' e
You must wait till your hour comes,
| it is, maybe deferred, that you may re-
pent. You are not to lift the latch Of life
yourself, and steal away from your sor-
rows like a thief.' @
4 am not thief, master
No, you only thought of becoming q
murderess.' ,zs
1T is, easy to talk, master, but it is
not easy to pine day after day, and to
sink about ashamed and ragged in the
streets at night; it is not easy to see peo-
pie eye one suspiciously, and get out of
ones way as if they were afraid TO file
their clothes with touching mine inpas-
sing-that's not easy, master.
why, the very children spit at me.
Little things that can hardly go alone,
raise shrill cry as soon as have come
in sight. Don't think you have got all
thorough bits of life to YOURSELF They
had come to the corner of the market
place, walking as they talked. Don't
60 down Barbican again Tonight, for
the love Of the mother who bore You.
He put a shilling into her hand-the
last he had, and battered away home
wards, hearing her earnest, God bless
you, masterp echoed inthetwirl of every
gust that came cuttingly through the
thick snow against his cheek as he sour
ried along. All the bells in the city were
alive, changing and Gathering in every
direction. Nicholas fancied the noise
made the night warmer; but the factwas,
that his keen edge of disappointment
about the etching was blunted by that lit
tie xerciseo human charity and the bles-
sine he had earned; his heart was warm
er within.
The exhilarated feeling did not go
down until he came witf.in scent of a
provision shop. Poor old fellow! 1t
is said that genius must hunger like
coarser clay. Nicholas had INDUCED a
mundane vision of supper in going down
to theprinter's, which was now out of
his reach completely; it is even possible
that his eyes were not quite clear as the
savory gust waited against his nos
trils, and reminded him of his failure IN
Barbican: bat he clutched his portfolio
very tight, and crossed the street, try
ing to forget the gpawing emptiness I'M
!. Il, of fIlt1I {-.il-
deserved reputation.
The wind and the snow and the bells
together had got up famous whirl in
the Minister Yard, and came tearing
down College Lane in perfectly rockies
way as Nicholas turned into it. 1t was
all he could do tohold fast the cloak and
folio, the stick and hat, as he crept UNI
der the projecting houses up to Nevis
Court; and there, having gained the
partial shelter of the gateway, he paus-
ed to ascertain that he really had not
lost any of his adjuncts, and to shake
the snow from his garments before climb
ing its staircase. He had reared the
portfolio in niche long since despoiled
of his tenant, and was quietly taking of
his cloak, when a sound close at his
heels made him jump aside almost as if
he were bitten. Could one of his little
prosecutors have lain in wait for him in
such weather?-O, the depths of juve-
nile, malice! Yet it seemed scarcely
possible. However, in his alarm Mich
olas darted across the court and feeling
his way up the steps, unlocked his win
dow-door, and entered tAe room in all
haste to escape the shrilltaunt and laugh
which he so much dreaded. 1T is too
bad said he aloud, dropping his hat
and cloak on the floor; it is too bad, |
don't know whatitmeans. | never hurt
anybody in all my life that know Of
Poor old Nicholas. You're a sad, mis-
cradle, despised old pauper. No, you're
not either, you're not sad, you're not
miserable by any means, and don't say
/ SO, for it is Lot true, you know it is not,
and it is wrong in you to mention it.
Breaking up the block of coal which
I he had left smouldering in the CRATE the
room was filed suddenly with a dan
cling radiance, Nicholas chafed his with
cred hands in the glow, and as thesnow
on his beard began to melt in tic heat,
| he shook the white flakes off, ID said
cheerily, well this is pleasant, wonder
/ if that poor soul in the Barbican has
got to warm herself at FIRE. What bust
ness have you to complain with such a
shelter to come to, ell, Nicholas Drew:
Now let let us look at our work He
strobe across to shut the door, which
he had left ajar, and then with groan
remembered that he had left the port.
folio in the niche.
What is to be done; has that little
mongrel gone to bed yeti He advanc.
ed his head outside to listen, and hear.