Wyoming democrat. [volume] (Tunkhannock, Wyoming Co., Pa.) 1867-1940, 1868-11-11
BOB HUNTER.

! since the night first broke up from the east
he had lain there by the roadside-dead
dead and lost dead to the sweet June tha
! smiled down from the soft sky above anc
! sang Ter song in the trees that shadowed
him; dead to her work everywhere-the
! green Of the meadows and hills the bios
sons that send up their fragrance above
him, and the sweet breezes that played
! over his burning cheek and lifted his mat
ted uncombed har Dead to the world
TO his own heart--lost TO his strength and
manhood
1t was no new thing, alas ! for Bob Hun
ter to sleep by the roadside; no new sight
for the villagers to see him as they passed
along the streets, lying under the hedge
row, his poor clothing damp with dew, his
head resting upon the ground. Indeed
had he SO long been an out cast--so long
lost it was no wonder to those who had
known HIM from his childhood even, to
see him thus, not a tongue, however accus-
toned to serve its own in the great cause
of humanity, that would say, eitherin pure
pity for tenderness, "Bob Hunter was drunk
by the roadside this morning y
1t would have been quite as well to
have affirmed that Mount Monadnock was
west of the village, or that in the north
as far as one could see, the spear-like
pines pricked the blue skv. True, some
would venture to say that he was dis
grace to the village; and others, forgetting
that God was OH earth, would say that he
would be better off dead; that he was no
use in the world; that he was brute, and
that the last spark of truth and manhood
had died out in his soul. Alas for them,
that having light they are so IN darkness
and also for him that bis hclish passion
came between him aud his God; between
him and his fellow creatures, and then
turned upon his own human heart
But | have to tell of this one bright,
cherry morning that Bob Hunter slept by
the wayside. 1t was pitiable sight in
deed, wretched picture that he made,
the fallen man, lying there; his torn hat by
his side, his ragged clothes wet with dew,
his pale trembling hands clasped over his
brcat, and his head pilowed on the grass,
so near a neighboung garden that stray
rose glstening with tears looked down up
on him from the low fence where it had
crept to blossom. Poor man if he could
only have taken the lesson the dewy
flower taught into his sodden heart
At last, when the bold sunlight shone
full in his face, he started up and drew his
hand across his dim and bIoodShot eyes.
lie thought he was qnite sure that he
heard a step close beside him, and the sud
den fear quickened his movements Half
asleep and drunk as hl 49,, nc had a
faint remembrance of what had happened
during his sleeping hours in times past-of
stones coming hard and thick upon him,
like huge hail stones, arousing him from
his slu,nbers, aud of ice water that had
been thrown over him by some thrifty
handed housewife, when he had ventnred
too near her premises for nap.
Bat now, neither sudden shower nor
stones answered the look OF inquiry that
he cast about him. Everything was still,
only the birds sang in the trees, and lit
tie brook gurglcd along from the opposite
side of the road: lie could hear nothing be-
side, yet he grasped his torn hat, and half
staggered to his feet, looked searchingly
about him. Just then a little pink and
white face, fair as the rose beside it, ap-
peared above the ggrden fence aud pair
of wondering blue eyes glanced question:
ingly after the half recumbent figure Of
the man.
"n bat dive WANT" growed out Bob
Hunter, turning his face from the steady
caze of the child, hich somehow sobered
as well AS annoyed him.
"Are You sick, Mr." she asked, without
needing his question.
Sick? o yes, ha Pm sick or drunk p
drunk " she replied after him, clasp
ING her little dimped hands over her face,
"Aunt Lucy 5it's terrible to be drunk .
Does, eh ? Well, she's mistaken; the
terrible is hight the other wap"
Again the child looked wonderiugly in
10 the flushed face OF the inebriatc.
Il want to go over there; will Won hurt
me if | do"
Come and see"
"Prom;se first that you won't hurt me- y
Promise Bob Hunter promise he
laughed to himself at the idea. What
would his promise be worth to the child,
if he gave 1t? But nevertheless he said
as soberly as he could:
"Gome along, 1 won't hurt you,"
That was crough. The next moment
she was beside him, looking his face over
and over again with her great and Won
dering eyes,
"What are you hooking at ?'asked Bob
lyon look sick, just as papa did when
he had the fever, and that's what make:
me live here with aunt Lucy. Amt you
dry? Don't you want some water? p
"Water, child what should | do with
it drink rum.'
"But I've got little pail just over the
fence, and | know where there is COO
spring right here by the road. Shan't
go?"
He did not say no this time, but stared
half blaDkly at the child. Perhaps the
faintest shadow of memory fell across hi:
darkened heart. Perhaps, when boy, he
had drank water from tin cup at road
side spring.
"Drink, please sir, it will not hurt you
She was at this side again, holding. the
brimming vessel to his parched lips.