The Vermont transcript. [volume] (St. Albans, Vt.) 1864-1870, 1865-07-21

I ~ o C"i Vlo lOsI yOutl tHc
oright-haired, bright-eyed boy who
had loved Eva Fay, where was he gone?
Oh, the stalwart handsome man into
whom thatyouth should have changed
Where was his grave dug? Who was
this, blot on the sunshine, creature
stamped blackguard- beggar- -"miser-
able ?"
John Rodman-John Rodman--
John Rodman could it be?
The glimpse of his own face had
been enough, and with clenched hands
and blood shot eyes turned Heaven
ward, he vowed never to see Eva Fay;
never while he lived to let her see and
know him.
But perhaps / may in Heaven"
John Rodman muttered; "for God and
the angels know l suffered punish
ment for crime | never committed,
aud that / meant to be honest while
live"
Then the memory of time when he
had had hopes and dreams that glad
den the lives of other men swept over
John Rodmans soul. He had ex-
pected to be rich and famous, to have
a wife and children about his hearth,
to be respected living and remembered
dead; and now, at thirty-fve, his
hopes were these: a crust to eat,
hole to crawl into by night, and most
of all, that the eye of the woman he
yet worshipped as a Catholic devotee
adores his patron saint, might never
rest upon him.
ut would break my Eva's heart, he
said "to see what have come to-
He sought for work next day. He
was a splendid penman and good ac-
countaut But men looked at his rags
and at the prison mould which seemed
to hang about him, and drew back
Men in clean black coats were to be
had; labor was at a discount 1t was
a favor to grant it, One or two asked
for his letters ofintroduction, or refer
ences. He almost laughed in their
faces, with bitter recollection of the
fact that he had been ten years in
prison on false charge of theft.
And so days came and passed. and
other days, and with them no regular
employment. But somehow he picked
up enough for meals and lodging by
putting in coal or mental work of the
same kind,
He who had been-nay, was, for he
had only been unfortunate-notg guilty
"a gentleman by birth and nature.
He strove and prayed for patience and
for death, until, at last, the deepest
depth of darkness came to him.
No food, no fire, no shelter, save a
dismal cellar way, for three long days
and nights. On tho. fourth, at dusk, he
crept out to beg. 1t did not matter
who knew him; he could shame none.
He went to one great door. 1t was
slammed in his face. He stopped an
old gentleman, and was threatened
with arrest He staggered, faint with
hunger, to other doors NO" 'no,
always mo" to his grasping prayer
for charity.
At last, in low, poor street, be
, opened q kitchen door where fat
woman was just taking from her stove
( oven a great pan of biscuit, and com
Portable supper smoked on the board.
The fragrance of the warm bread
made him faint with longing. His
fingers quivered. He humbly said,
hat in hand: "a piece of bread, if you
please ma ma, as child might.
He no more dreamt of any POSSIBLE
ity of refusal than of seeing those
/ warm biscuits turn into stone.
But that woman, comfortable with
good food, rosy from her warm fire
and lamp-hght, turned on him in yix-
: en- fashion;
/ BREAD! You're able to earn youl
own bread. / don't encourage mer
r beggars. There's work for them as
S aren't too lazy. You'd best tramp i
: you don't want the dog set on you
4 Here, Carlo here, old fellow -
!. John Rodman turned without 6
t word. He was growing blind and
deaf. He staggered out into the
street, and stumbled against mar
1 who was passing. The latter first ut
a tered an oath, then a cry, and caught
him by his hands.
t 1t was the thief whom he had parted
Y from at the prison gates. And foui
a doors off was the alley he had named
An hour after, rascals, who deserved
jail and the gallows, every one o
h them, had given John Rodman Tho