Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1866-06-22

He wanted to look onward little, and
speculate whether any mere ground re-
manned to be possessed. But when he saw
the new comcr he aroused himself at once
from his dreams, and became the alert,
watchiul man of business. 1t was his con-
fidcntial agent, Solomon Osgood, who was
charged with experimenting his real es-
tate, and collecting his rents. 1t was the
first Of the month POW, and there were ac-
counts to be rendered in. They seemed
satisfactory for the most part but at last
Mr.. Richmond said III an inquiring tone
"And the Widow Maflitr'
"Ycs | was going to speak about her. !
hope you will be willing to wait Il little for
her rent. She has been in trouble"
"IIum Yes So she was last month,
aud the month before, and the month be-
fore that" Mr.. Richmond said rather curt
| ly.
"Ncry true" the agent answered grave
| ". last month her little Jack died, and
the month before she was very sick; and
now the only one she has left seems trying
to follow his brothers footsteps. Sickness
brings Il deal of fcxpcnsc, and comes hard
on poor folks"
Mr.. Richmond considered little then
said with quiet determination
Il don't want to be unfeeli,lg, Osgood,
so I'll not tell you to send her off now but
! must say plainly that don't want any
such tenants. Giving in charity is one
thing, aud renting houses is another
When ! want 10 give can give; but
want the interest on my investments,
when it comes to II matter of business"
"FH be security for Mrs. Mailit-you
shan't lose by her., the agent remarked,
in the tone Of one wounded little. His
cmplover looked at him curiously.
" You're philantlIropist, NJ. OsgOod. y
he said with II smile rather satirical, yet
not altogether nkndly. Il don't care
about Your undertaking the. burden Of my
bad debts Seven children. and wife
none too strong, are about as big load as
send the woman oil, now let her stay
! ON through March, whether she pays or
not; and see if you can't find me another
tenant by the first of April
"Tlanll YOU sir, rs to Mrs Maflit's part
of vour remark Mr. osgood answered.
AS for that about NE and mine, | think
/ Mr.. Richmond, if you had the same burden
TO carry, you'd find it about the pleasant
est thing You eve: bent undcr,''
ThcrcWas an airol sincerity in his manner
II beam of secret delight in his hook. which
fingered with the Hon. Pierce Richmond
after his AGENT had gone away. lie won-
dcrcd if there were, indeed, 50 much bless
cdnrss in family ties il ii We're good for a
man tn have IL wife and mouths To look
out for And 50 specializing. the bittcrcst
memory in his whole lite came back 10
hin-the only sole lime since his mother
death when he loved Sonie being beyond,
aud apart FROM himself. II was Il score OF
wears ago. and he was forty two then. and
>hr-thc lo,cd our- just twenty. Helmet
her in Il lodging house, where hc had 4
fashionable suit of first floor apartments.
and where she, lodging III the attic, used
now and then to meet hm on the steps OF
in the hall, until he learned to think that
day dark, lit by no glean OF her gold hair
How we'll he remembered the face, sweet
vet spirited the red Young mouth, and
the hairs voun@ gold'-thc dainty, lith,
figure, the Springlng step, the musical, low
tones How it was lie harlly knew, hu
hc the cold, selfish, hardened man of tn,
world, felt swelling up in his heart Il fonn-
tain of sweet WatcrS-an6 then. when he
would have Slallcd it at his souls thirst
beautiful and dccrttul and deccItul us Il
mirage It vanished, and his heart, lacking
It's sweetness. turned to desert waste.
For hot Ill his gold bcsuled the little
Girl he loved liito wedding him. She look.
cd into his, with her pure, honest eyes.
this Julia WlnStcad, and told him same
truths hard to bear. lie WAS old for his
turtv-two years, and she told him So; hard
and cold, used to living by himself, selfish
even in his wish to bind her youth to his
stern. middle age Receiving his proposal
OF marriage AS an attempt 20 buy her fresh
ness and beauty, with her pitleSs PLAIN
ness OF speech, she made him feel it all.
The next day she left the house, and
since then he lad never seen her But he
had never forgiven her. She stood i'll
his memory IT'S his cnrmy-Ilis onc enemy.
for curiousle enough he had made no Other
in his long life. But toward her his re-
sentiment was AS keen as on the day he had
been 50 stung by her indignant refusal To
rive him her hand, when as she said, lie
must know in ;hc very nature of things ii
was impossible for her to give him
her heart. He remembered her pittilcssly
| we'll. II he had bceu an artist he could
have painted the dun gold of the long, fine
! hair, the violet ewes which the curling lash
cs shaded, the red lips with their naughty
curve. He had never seen her since; buI
he laid on her the blame and burden OF his
solitary Years. But for her, he thought,
he too might have been husband and
lathcr-not living out thus, unlovcd and
uncarcd for, his lonely life.
Unlovcd and uncarcd for, The words
struck bitterly on his ear, and he repeated
them over and over To himself. thinking
the while thoughts new and strange
W hat had he donc-did he or some inyis-
ible presence ut his side ask the question:
what had he done that any one Sh0aid love
hn Had, he ever uneellishly tried to
make one human being happy Had there
ever leen an hour i'll which sell had not
been the centre round which all his aim'
revolyedl Icpushed away his letterwil
Honorable on the cover. He began II
doubt whether after ALL his life had been i
success What single good deed had he II
be recAaned 10 the days when by his work.
he must be justified or condemnedi Ant
now now he Was an old man-for the frs
time lie began to feel that-and it WAS TO,
late. All, it must hayo beena suggestion
of the still, small voice that seemed to pen
citrate his heart.
mot too late, o never too late to begin
to live for God and good ~
But what could he do
,,Go and see the widow Matlit," the voice
in the heart answered. There would be
n beoiuuing. If YOU find her suffering YOU