Pointe Coupee Democrat. [volume] (False River [i.e. New Roads], Parish of Pointe Coupee [La.]) 1858-1862, 1858-03-27
Written for the Pointe Coupee Democrat
HE DIED RICH.

ragged through the streets of Il great city driving
before it many poor, shiyering, houseless wretch
es to every shelter which utting wall Or the cor
ner of O door step afforded
| Gaunt forms crouched under easements from
whence bright lights and pleasant sounds stream
ed cheerfully forth-crouched there with curses on
their lips and bitterness in their hearts-for with
food, warmth and comfort around, were not they.
the Pariahs, separated, as if by an impossible
gulf, from the sympathy of their happier brethren.
| Who thought Of the poor that night? OF the
myriad hearts, in that mighty city, which count
ed time by joyous throbs, eager longings and sell
fish griefs who cast one pitiful thought upon the
uncovered heads in the outer darkness, bending
beneath the rigor of the midnight storm?
Certainly not the owner of the statelest dwell
ing in that fashionable row, for to Mr.. Wilston.
the needy were the most loathsomc objects on
earth. His fastidious taste, he had an exquisite
wretchedness which poverty dared intrude on his
presence. Thirty years of successful scheming
and grasping aEariee, had erected in his mind one
standard of right,-success one test of crime
misfortune. And who appealed from that judg-
ment? His house was such temple of taste, his
entertainments so reherche his contributions to
public works SO magnificent, that it would have
been bold man who dared eensure Mr.. Wilston,
because he chose to deny crust of bread or
kind word to the starving beggar, and a narrow
mind which venturcd to wonder that the sybarlte
out of his Iuxures had not rescued his only broth-
er from life of struggling poverty and g death
of shame.
But Of all the miserable who had been driven
like ours from his door, the most abject among
them would have been unwilling, that night, to
exchange places with the honored owner In his
luxurious apartment into which even the voice
of the outward storm came softened; under a sill
ken canopy, and pllowed in down, the rich man
lay dying. A few short hours and he would be
colder than the coolest of them all.
Two persons, only, were in the apartment,
nurse and physician. Mr.. Wilston had neither
wife nor child, we had almost said no friend. But
DR.. Meredith and he had played together as boys,
beside the clear waters of g Halle creek,'-as
youths had sought their fortunes in the same me
tropolis, and in after years had pledged many an
to recoilections of the past;
at least such as one dared recall.
Therefore, without any great love, there was
quite enough of old association between them to
make the physician as solictous in his attentions
as if they had been beloved frienda Bnt that
slender tie could hardly account for the degree of
perplexed sadness which rested upon his counte-
nance. The good doctor had pondered too often
and too solemnly upon the time when his own
grey head must rest on its dying pillow, to have
an unwonted doubt or fear intrude in the familiar
presence of the :" great summoneE' But IN sore
trouble he bethougat him of the manner in which
he should best apprze Mr.. Wilston Of his hopeless
condition, who had resolutely refused to believe
that he was even very ILL
A groan and a restless motion drew DR.. Mere
dith to the bedside of his patient He at first
thought that grey shadow had fallen on the
face, from. the disheveled hair which lay partly
over it, but as he marked more closely the sharp
enng features, the uttering feeble pulse he fear
ed that he would never waken from that stangely
troubled slumber.
. How uneasily he sleeps" muttered the phys-
clan. as he watched the convulsive movements of
the death-stamped linaments:
Uneasily, indeed, for before the dreaming senses
of the sufferer arose picture with shifting
scenery and faithful changes, yet so clear distinct
and lfeIike that the dying man, felt the sluggish
life food curle at his heart the terrible panor-
ma spread until it covered the face Of heaven and
earth.
Haegard faces scowled at him wearing the fea-
lures of those whom his merciless exactlGns had
driven from happy homes to ruin and oeggary.
The innocence his accursed gold had corrupted,
the auilt he had encouraged, his every outrage. |
and their name was legion against the common
ito of human brotherhood, mocked him with feind-
ish eyes. and whispered in his ear, :" too late.
Rut then like the raising of a cloud, the picture
5sanneared. and to the dreamer, the blue sky
looked bluer, and the grass greener, that they had
,een 50 frightfully hidden. Once more he was
youth and the rustic Of the poplars BY the farm
house the hum of the bees in the lilaces nay even
the verv murmer of quiet Halle Brook" was
puite as distinct in his ear as on that summer
morning when be bade them all adieu.
His mothers tender earnest voice bids him
J. God speed. and Harry she adds-.do thy duty
= - k,.x lxy nsr,3 II
Sweet Lucy Lee weeps her innocent tears on
lis bosom and amid great sobs falters out, .Oh
Harry, Harry, why viii you leave VI" Aud he
rows that be only goes to win little cottage with
Lucy for It's mistress She believed him, and he