The Marietta journal. [volume] (Marietta, Ga.) 1866-1909, 1868-10-23
TWENTY YEARS OF VICE.

u
ing in CONSEQUENCE of some Irritating
circumstances of misfortune, when ho
met little boy ofsuch surprising bcau-
ty that he forgot his trouble and gloom
in looking upon the almost angelic face
before him.
"That face must have," said the
artist, s4ffor my studio. Will you come
to my room and sit for picture, my
little man I" oa a
The little boy was glad to go and see
pictures and pencils and4curious things
in the artists room, and he was still
more pleased when he saw what seemed
to be another boy looking just like him
SELF smiling from the artists canvass.
The artist took great deal of pleas
ure in looking at the sweet, innocent
face. When he was troubled. or irri-
taied, or perplexed, he lifted his eyes to
that lovely image on the wall, and its.
beautiful, hopeful features and express
ion Gained his heart and made him hap
Ply again. Many visitor to this studio
wished to purchase that lovely face;
but though poor, and often in want of
money to buy food and clothes, he would
not sell his good angel, as he called this
portrait.
So years went on. Oftines as he
looked up to the face on the glowing
convass he wondered what had become
of that boy.
elbow should like to see how he
looks now! wonder if I should know
him? Is he good man and true, or
wicked and abandoneds Or has he
died and gone to better world z"
One day the artist was strolling down
one of the fine walks of the city when he
beheld young man whose face and
mien were so vicious, so depraved, SO
almost fiend like, that he involuntariiy
stopped and gazed at him.
"What spectacle I should like to
paint that figure and hang it in my
studio opposite the angel" said the ar
fist to himself.
The young man asked the painter for
money for he was q beggar as well as
a thief.
"Come to my room and let me paint
your portrait, and | will give you all
you ask" said the artist.
The young man followed the painter
and sat for sketch. When it was fin
ished, and he had received few coins
for his trouble, he turned to go, but his
eyes rested upon the picture OF the boy !;
he looked at it, turned pale, and then
burst into tears.
''What troubles you, man 7" said the
artist.
1t was long before the young man
could speak he sobbed aloud and seem
ed pierced with agony. At last he
pointed up to the picture on the wall,
and in broken tones, which seemed to
come from broken heart, said:
Twenty years ago you asked me to
come up here and sit for picture, an6
that angel fac. is the portrait. Behold
me now ruined man, so bloated, sc
hideous that women and children turn
away their faces from me; SO tiend like
that you wanted my picture to show
how ugly a man could look. All | see
now what crime and vice have done fol
me-" aa8
The artist was amazed. He could
scarcely believe his own eyes and cars.
elbow did this happeni" he asked.
'.The young man then told him his
sad and dreadful history; how being an
only son and very beautiful, his parents
petted and spoiled him, how he went
forth among bad boys and learned all
their bad habits and vices, and came to
love them; how, having plenty of mon
ey, he was enticed into wicked places
until all was lost, and then, unable to
work, and ashamed to beg, he began to
steal; was caught and imprisoned with
the worst criminals, came out still more
! depraved, to commit worse crimes than
before; how every bad deed he per-
formed seemed to drive him to commit a
worse one, until it seemed to him that
he could not stop until brought to the
gallows.
|. 1t was fearful tale and brought tears
into the artists eye. EIe besought the
young man to stop, offered TO help him.
But alas it was too late. Disease, con-
tracted by dissipation, soon Frustrated
the young man and he soon died-be,
fore he could reform. The painter hung
his portrait directly opposite that of the
beautiful boy; and when visitors asked
him why no allowed such hideous look
ing face to be there, he told them the
story, saying as he closed, "between the
angel and the demon there is only TWEEN
ty years of vice."
The leason of this tale is in the tale
itself. You who read it can tell what
it is. Think of it often and heed it al