The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1866-04-21

are about as big load as you can carry
Didn't say you needn't send the woman of
now? Let her stay on, through March
whether she pays or net and see if you can
find me another tenant by the first OF April
"Thank you sir, as to Mrs. Maffit's par
of your re mark" Mr.. Osgood answered =
, "As for that about me and mine, think
Mr. Richmond if ycu had the same burden t.
carry, you'd find it about the peasantest on
you ever bent under"
There YVES an air of sincerity in his manner
a beam Of secret delight in his look, whic
fingered with the Hon. Pierce Raymond afte
, his agent had gone away. He wondered i
, there were, indeed, so much blessedness il
) family ties-if it were good for a man to hay
, wife and mouths to look out for. And, s.
.peculating, the bittersst memory IN hi
v hole life came back to him-the one sol
time since his mothers death when he haC
| loved some being beyond and apart from
himself 1t was a score of years ago, and h'
was forty>two then, and she--the loved ont
Just twenty. He met her IN a lodging
house, where he had fashionable suite o
first floor apartments, and where she, lodgins
in the attic, used now and then to meet Lin
ON the steps or in the hall, until he learned
to think that day dark, lit by no dream o.
her dun gold hair. How well he remember
ed the face, sweet yet spirited-''the red
young mouth, and the hairs young goli''-
the dainty, 1.-The figure, the spriuging step,
the musical, low tones! How it was he
hardly knew bit he, the cold. selfish, hard
e,ied man of the world, felt swelling up in
his heart fountain of sweet ~aters-and
then, when he would have slaked at it his
souls thirst, beautiful as a mirage it vanish
ed, and hi, heart, lacking its sweetness,
turne ed to desert waste.
For not all his gold beguilded the little
girl he loved into wedding him. She looked
into his face with her pure. honest eyes, this
Julia Winsted aud told him some truths
hard to bear. He was old for his forty-two
years, and she told him so; hard and cold,
used to living by himself, selfish even his
wish to bind her youth to his stern, mid lie
age Receiving his proposal Of marriage as
an attempt to buy her freshness and beauty.
with her pitiless plainne.s of speech she
made HIM feel it all.
The next Cay she left the house. and since
then he had never seen her. But he had
never forgiven her. She stood in his memo
! ry as his enemy-hs one enemy for curiously y
! enough he had made no other ia the course
! Of his long life. Bat towar,i het his resent
ment was as keen as on the day when he had
| been so stung by her Indignant refusal TO give
him her hand, when as she said, he must
know in the very nature Of things 1t was i'm
possible for her 10 give him her heart. He
remembered her pi:eously well. If he hau
! been an artist he could have painted the dun
! gold OF the long, fine hair, the violet eyes
/ which the curling lashes shaded, the red lips
with their naughty curve. He had never
seen her since; but he laid on her memory
the blame and burden of bis solitary years.
| But for her, he thought, he too might have
been husband and father-not living cut
! thus, uulovcd and uncared fer, his lonely
/ life.
| Unlovei and uncared for! The words
stratk bitterly on his car aud he repeated
them over and over to himself, thinking the
! while thoughts new and strange. What ha
| he done-did be or some invisible presence
at his side ask the question-what had he
dene that ang one should love him? Had
he ever ns.ltishlv tried to make one human
being happy? Had there ever been day or
hour in which self had not been the centre
round which all his aims revolved? ? He
pushed away his letter with Honorable on the
! cover. He began to doubt whether, after all.
! his life had been success. W hat single
good deed had he to be rcckoned up 's the
davs when by his work. he mus, be con-
! demned? And now he was old man-for
the frs. time he began TO feel that-and II
was too late. All, It must have been a sug
gestion of the still, small voice that seemed
10 penetrate his heart
Not too late. O, never too late to begin to
live for God aud good!>
But what cosli he do?
$50 and see the widow Mal!it,r the vace
in his heart answered. There would be a
beginning. If you find her su!f f:ring you can
help her.
lie was acting on rev irnpulse,, bu. the
resou.e strength which had helped HIM al
| through life, hurried him on now; and in hall
an bour he was at the door Of Mrs. Maiit's
| fourstory room. Answering his knock, she
| did not know her visitor, and stood es il
waiting to hear his errand.
Il am your landlord" he sail, IN tones
which no emotion seemed 20 make other
than stern; and then she stood aside and
asked him to walk in.
lie stepped into the bare, comfortless room.
4 fire dull for want OF fuel fickdred on the
hearth, and before it trying to warm HI, slem-
der ingures, bent boy of.about twelve. Hr.
! Richmond's ewes, III their comprehensive
gaze round the desc ate, barren rbom. rested
on him, and re inaiued fixed. He was
slight. fragile boy, who might have
| passed for younger than his years, save for
the expression of maturity on his thoughtful
countenance. But those violet eyes over
which the ashcs curled, the dun gold hair
| falling softly round the pcnsive tsce-whose
were they? He had never seen such since
the day he parted with her--his enemy. He
! turned at last and looked atthe mother. She
remained quietly awaiting his pleasure-a
wo nan of at least forty, worn by sorrow and
| touched by time, yet with certain proud
4 L Il
attitude in which she had stood twenty years
be ore, on day he could never forget. For
this was his enemy! He would not have
known her, perhaps, save for the golden
haired boy-but now he saw all her old sell
in her changed features. She was waiting to
! learn his pleasure-wh.t ,ras his pleasure
| Before to- lay he couli have answered thi.
| question unhesitating!y: to humiliate her =
| to see her starve--to push her 10 the las. ex
tremiy-to be revenged upon her by any and
| all means for the light esteem in which she
! had held him. Now-wbuld any revenge OF
this kind satisfy hin? Vaguely as some
| thing heard afar off some words came back
| to him-he thought he lad heard hi. moth +
read them in his boyhood.
'If ihine enemy hunger feed him, if he
| thirst give him drink =
| His heart throbbed strangely, but he KEEP:
all emotion out of his voice.
II hear your rent is not ready Mrs M,ffi'.;
At is rot. Frank has been i'll SO much,
and required so much Of Ey attention,
! hoped YOU would be willing to give me lit
tie time. | think he will be better when
| spring opens"
/ "But you ought not to have expected much
lei iency from ME. You told me years ago
that was a stern, hard man. You might
have softened me if you had tried then; but
| think time has been turning ME into stone.
She recognized him now, and her lip curl.
| ed with touch of the old scorn. To hin OF
| all men she would not sue for grace.
was true to myselfthen," she said quietly,
| IL am not sorry even now