Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1860-11-23

t@a11e5Ss
But, my friend, you broke the laws
of the land ; but few escape with their
lives was the reply.
Better off than l be- muttered the
old man. I've often wished I'd been
put out of the way. ] was drunk and
he was my enemy. He raised his hand
to take my life, perhaps-I only struck
him once in the temple I've been sor-
ry, and suffered enough heaven knows,
and now | want to see the fields once
more before | die. Can't you help me,
sill?
The pitiful face was stamped upon the
chaplain's heart, the pitiful voice rang in
his ear. The poor, gray old man! Gen
tly and kindly he pointed him to the
Saviour but the old man grew restless
that was not his theme-liberty, person
al liberty. He could only think of that,
nothing else.
The next prisoner was the youth he
had seen. He wished a letter written
to his parents; he suffered with a sore
hand, and could not write.
What shall l tell them ? asked the
pastor.
Tell them you saw me here-and-
and | am well-that II send my love,
especially TO Jenny he stopped one
moment, attempted to go on, but instead,
burst into a passionate food of tears.
My poor boy said the chaplain, in
expressibly afected,as he stood notebook
in hand, what was your crime?
Forging, they say, sir, but 1 didn't
know it; l was drunk, drugged, and
some vile persons used me so that they
need not suffer. o, sir, I've got re-
spectacle father, and a mother such as
few boys have-and yet here l am
The chaplain soothed him with kind
words, encouraged him to be gentle and
obedient, assuring him that Christ had
called such as he, and left him calm
er, and with promise that be would
soon see him again.
The next convict was a young colored
man, the worst case in the penitentiary,
the keeper said. He also wished the
chaplain TO write for him, but he would
hear nothing about religion and instead
of expressing contrition for the crime he
had been guilty of, he seemed to glory
in it, and said be would do it again if he
could. Sabbath after Sabbath were the
same scenes enacted, and though the
chaplain was never remiss in his duty,
still he saw but little fruit for all his we'll
doing, and very often his heart was bow
ed down with keen sorrow, and his faith
weakened by his ill-success. A year he
remained in that field, then be was called
away to endure hardships and privations
in another field.
One day, long years after this, after q
great loss and consequent depression, he
was walking along the street of certain
city, when he felt some one touch hi:
arm. He turned and a well dressed
black man whom he did not remember
stood beside him.
You have forgotten me, sir, see, hi
said.
Your face is somewhat familiar wa
the reply.
DO you remember black Bob, of tht
w. peniientlary:'
Certainly 1 do. Can this be he 2
Yes, sir; and want to thank 70,
for your kind teachings. 1 was a ba,
man, sir, no mistake; but after you wen
away thought of what you said-o
your kindness and politeness to US wick
ed men-and l sought the Lord, as yol
told me to. The consequence is l be
haved SO well they pardoned me out
l got into business, prospered, married
ard now | own my house, and hav,
three boys, all getting god education
strand blessed be God, l owe it all t.
religion, sir, and l thank God that 1 ev
er saw you
j o, how the heart of the worn mai
lesped for JOY.
But what of poor old Summers b,
asked, much affected.
He died in prison, sir, but he wen
rejoicing in his Savior. His death. sir
was the means of blessing six of tn,
men, and most of them, indeed, all bu
one, are good members of society, to
day.
This was a glorious harvest, but til,
best was to come.
Foot-sore and travel-stained, some
years after, be was nearing The inn of a
country village, when, as he came oppo-
site a great stone house, surrounded will
garden and full orchards. a man who wa.