Democrat and sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1853-1866, 1859-06-15

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Father he opened his eyes here's my
quarters bill. Can't I have the money to
take to school with me in the morning /?
4 am afraid not,' answered Mr.. Walcott,
| half IN dispair.
Nearly all the girls will bring in their
money, Tomorrow. and it mortifes me to be
behind the others
Mr, Walcott waved her aside with his
hand, and she went off muttering and pout-
ing.
1t is mortifying.' said Mrs. Walcott, a
| little sharply; 'and | don't wonder that Hell
en- feels annoyed about it. The bill has to
be paid, and don't see why it may not be
done1xs well first as last
To this Mr. Wiicott made no answer The
words bat added another pressure to the
heavy burden under which he was already
staggering. After silence of some moments
Mrs Walcott further said
The Goals are all gone
'Impossiblep Mr.. Walcott raised his head
and looked incredulous I laid in sixteen
tous.'
Il can't help it; if there were sixty tons
! instead of sixteen, they are all gone. The
| girls had hard work to-day to scrape up
enough to keep the FIRE in
There's been a shameful waste some
| phasis, starting up and moving about the
| room with very disturbed mauner.
SO you always say, when anything runs
OUT answered Mrs. Walcott, rather tartly
The barrel of -four is gone also but |
suppose you have done your part with the
rest in using it up.
Mr.. Walcott returned to his chair, and
again seated himself, leaned back his head
and closed his eyes as at first. How sad.
and weary, and hopeless he felt
| The burden of the day had seemed almost
/ too heavy for him but he had borne up
| bravely. To gather strength for renewed
| struggle with adverse circumstances, he had
come home. Alas that the process of ex-
| haustion should still go on--there where only
strength could be looked for on Garth, no
strength was given.
| When the tea-bell was ruug, Mr. Walcott
made no movement to obey the summons.
Come to supper said his wife coldy.
| But he Gid not stir
Are you not coming to supper p she called
to him, as she was leaving the room
! i don't wish for anything this evening.
'Whyr she said.
| My head aches very much he answered.
In the dumps again, muttered Mrs. Wal
| colt to herself. It's as much as ones life is
| worth to ask for money or say anything is
| wanted And she kept On her way to the
| dining room.
| When she returned, her husband was still
sitting where she had left him, in the chair
Shall l bring you cup of tea p she
asked.
| No, don't wish for anything
| What's the matter, Mr.. Walcott What
do you look so troubled about, as if you had
not friend in the world? What have 1
done to you?
| There was no answer. fer there was not a
shade of real sympathy in her voice that made
| the queries, but rather of quarrelous dissatis-
faction. A few moments Mrs. Wacott stood
behind her husband, but as he did not seem
| inclined to answer questions, she turned away
from him and resumed the enjoyment which
had been interrupted by the ringing of the
tea bell
The whole evening passed without the oc-
currence of single incident that gave q
bcalthful pulsation to the sick heart of Mr.
w alcott
No thoughtful kindness was manifested by
any member of the family but on the con
,rary. a narrow regard for self, and looking
to him only that he might supply the means
of self qualification.
No wonder, from the pressure which wa
/ on him, that Mr. WalcOtt felt utterly dis
couraged.
He retired early, and sought to find tha
relief from mental disquietude in sleep whicl
he had vanly hoped for in the bosom of hi
! family. But the whole night passed in bro
ken slumber and disturbing dreams. From
the cherries morning meal, at which he wa
reminded of the quarters bill that must b
paid, of the Goals and -four that were out
and of the necessity of supplying Mr. Wal
colts empty purse, he went forth to meet th
difficulties of another day, faint at heart, al
most hopeless of success. A confident spirit
; sustained by home affections would have Cal
o ried him through; but unsupported as
was. the burden was too heavy for him, an
, he sank under It. The day that opened 6
uppropidously, closed upon him RUNE
and bankrupt man.
Let us look in for few moments upon M
: Freeman, friend and neighbor of Nj
: Walcott. He, also, has come home wear
dispirited, and almost sick. The trials
e the day had been unusually severe, and whe
q he looked anxiously forward to scan the fl
!, ture, not even geam of light was seen alon
It the black horizon.
r As he stepped across the threshold of h
dwelling pang shot through his heart, ft
+ the thought came, How slight the presel
/ hold upon all these comforts Not for hin
e self, but for his wife and children was tt
> pain.
o Fathers come! cried glad little voit
) on the stairs. the moment his football soul
ded in the passage; ten quick pattering fe
e were heard-and then tiny form was sprin,
g ing into his arms. Before reaching the 81
h ting-room above, Alice, the eldest daughte
p was by his side, her arm drawn fondly with
r. his, aud her loving eyes lifted to his face