Nebraska advertiser., 1869-01-14

ner, Keeping in the shadow all the
way, and when stood beside the box
and saw, by the light Of the lamp,
close by that the ham was there,
wrapped in something which looked
like a handkerchief, I bit my Ibis and
elenched my hands with rage. Had
it been a common thief, / should not
so much have minded; but 3 police
man 1t was more than could stand.
So 1 crouched myself in a doorway
and waited. The watch were relieved
at twelve o'clock I knew that, and
knew also that this would be the time
when my policeman would come to
take the ham out of its hiding-place.
And sure enough, when the time
came, heard him challenge the man
who was to take his place, and come
marching down toward the corner.
let him get the ham well under his
arm before ] stirred. but then I poune-
ed upon him like a tiger.
1--WE got you J" ! cried. IA pretty
policeman you are, indeed, but you
shall suffer for it, can tell you
He struggled with me for a moment,
like wild thing; and then all Of
sudden dropped the hamand fell down
in a helpless sort of heap upon the
ground.
"I'm a ruined manl' he grOaned-
"a ruined man there is no hope for
me now. Oh, my God my wife-my
poor little wife !" and he burst out
crying like a woman.
| The sight sOftened me, but was
angry still.
'FYou should have thought of that
before y on became a thief" 1 said.
/ "If the guardian of a mans property
is not to be trusted, what is to be-
come Of him? And you look like a
gentleman-you do not seem like a
scOundrel; how have you ever stopped
to do such disgraeeful thing as this?"
He was standing beside me now,
and the lamp light fell upon his face.
/ 1t was white as any corpse's, and his
eyes glittered terribly.
'I'll tell you what made me do il"
he said; cit was the only thing which
could have driven me to do an act like
/ that; my wife and children are star
ving-starving tell you, and I had
nothing for themp'
"Policeman's families do not often
starve," said, with a sneer.
"My -od can't you believe me-
won't YOU believe me ?" painted the
man. 81 have only been appointed
three days; I have not received a cent
of salary yet. 1 have been i'll long
while, and had neither money nor
credit. Last night we went to bed
supperless; to-day there has not been
a crust in the house, and those hams
tempted me so. You can never know
how awful they tempted me, and I
meant to pay you afterward.
| \ II sAl L
and I could see great tears dripping
! through his fingers, and before I knew
/ it my own cheeks were moist, and so
we stood silent, with the ham laying
between US on the ground.
At last he turned toward me and
said:
"Do what you like with me; the
last hope is gone"
But put my hand on his arm, and
said
"GOd forbid that I should take that
last hope from yOu-that I, of all men,
| should be the one to ruin you. If
your story is true-and l believe it is
pity you more than blame you"
He looked at me in a sort of bewil-
dered way, as though he scarcely un-
derstoOd me, and l took him by the
arm and led him back toward the
shop. There I filled a basket with
bread and butter and coffee, and put
the ham on the top of all.
i Take it home to your wife, I
said, you'll pay me when you get
your salary and if you are in need
before that time come to me. Pm
poor man myself, and can feel for
other poor men,"
ohoII r,ovvor foyo.oA kJ,oA - R,or
in all my life-sO wondering, so
thankful and so awe-stricken. All he
said was, Good bless YOU" but there
was a whole sermon in those three
words, and slept better for them.
On Christmas night he paid me ev-
cry cent, and from that day, until
left the neighbOrhOod, dealt with me
regularly. But times grew so much
better that I took store in a good
street at the other end of the town, |
and one way and another saw no more |
of my policeman for three good years. !
One night, just such a cold bright |
night as that on which first saw him
staring at the hams, / was awakened |
long after midnight by cry of fire. !
started up to see the flames through
the floor, and to know the store down
stairs was all ablaze. The stairs were
on fire also, and when, as I opened |
the entry door the hot air and smoke |
rushed in and almost smothered me,
I gave up all hope of getting my
poor wife and our helpless little ones
out of the burning building alive and |
safe. Help came to US, hOWeve, and
though in clambering down the lad
der; / slipped and broke my arm, /
was thankful when i saw. as III
thought, that all were safe. / was so
faint and i'll from the accident, you
see, that I hadn't oil my wits about /
me, and believed that there was no
one missing. My blood ran cold when |
my wife, clasping her hands, with an !
awful look on her face, screamed:
"Our little Lucy, our little Lucy is
left behind.n
She had slept with our hired girl
since her baby-brother was born, and
the woman in her fright had forgot
ten the little one. There she was at
the top of that burning building out
of the reach of any human helD: it
seemed to me as I looked up at the
walls, a great red and yellow sheet of
flame, with blue CLEANS here and
there as though develish heads were
peeping out and grinning at US. Still, /
hopeless as it was, should have gone
back into the burning house and saved
my baby or died with her if had been
able to stand. No one else would ven
ture. It would be a foolish sacrifice Of
life, they said, for no doubt, the child
was already smOthered by the smoke;
and though / raved and pleaded and
made wild promises, they shook their
heads and only bade me have patience. /
Patience! I thought that was go
ing mad as the face Of my little girl,
my sweet pretty pet, rose up before
me. But Just then a tall man dashed
through the crowd and came toward
me.
"Quick !" he shouted, (which room
is the child in-speak quick-which
rOom?"
''The back one on the upper floor
I groaned, and he dashed away from
me, parting the thrOng with his strong
!