Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1869-01-20
Vol. 64.-3249. No. 13.


Joe himself was silent for a long time.
What allied the deacon ?" he asked at
last as his sister came back to his bedside
Diptheria, they said"
Putty sick, want he ?"
Thought he would die; the folks said
so."
"Wel, it's done him more good than all
no matter" and Joe ended his sentence
abruptly
To think how he used to fret and fume !"
muttcrcd Jocs sister! And what a blessing
that chair will be, and how you've wished
you could git one, and he coming and offering
it himself Well I'll never say deacon Gray
amt Christian again, never!"
Meantime the deacon's wife was lifting the
attenuatcd frame of her husband into the
carriage again, her vigorous shoulders his
main support, There were tears in her eyes,
but she hustled abodt, looking this way and
that, tucking the big shawl over the deacon's
knees and pressing him suddenly back as if
she feared gust Of the strong spring wind
would blow him away. Oh but in her heart
it seemed as if she hed never felt such wealth
Of tenderness The one thing that this good
but severe man had lacked, had now almost
by miracle it seemed, been wrought into being
and taken its lodgment in his heart In his
face a new, holier benignity shone, even on
the strongly scanned forehead, andin the deep
lines that toll aud thought had worn on his
checks The eyes, the grey eyes, that only
on necessary occasions had lighted up with
human beauty, seemed now to have gained an
almost unearthly softness
Marthy, Christ knew, didn't He2" he
asked in quiet tender voice.
Knew what dear ?" the good woman
started at her own tenderness--at the unusual
term Of affection
Through suffering, and he turned to
his wife.
" How to pity us Oh yes end He took it
all on HIMSELF
II was put on me, thank God ! would
not have it so, no, no. Humanity shrinks
from the suffering, from the cross. Forty
years of health, Martha, is fearful test. |
don't know, looking at the past, as do now,
feeling what | have lost, and what / have
gained-I don't know as had grace enough
to save me, Martha. 1t didn't seem TO me
once as if any body need to be sick Many
a time thought folks give up because they
were weak and lazy. | don't know, but it
seemed sin to me to be sickly and ailing.
| But you see God knew what needed. Stop
Dobbin, Martha; there's poor Stephens little
lame boy. | wonder if something cant be
done for him."
! SO Dobbin was stopped, and the poor child
| gladdened with a kind word aud a handful of
coppers, that set his face shining What with
delight and surprise, tears came again to the
good wife's eyes, for children had rather
avoided the deacon, sterling man though ne
was.
"I'll see if that boy can't be helped" the
deacon went on. I've heard that if his
father could afford it, there's place where
he might be cured. He's a fine little fellow,
and it's shame to let him go stumping thro'
/ life"
"Shant we turn round, now, deacon 7"
asked his wife
al think l would like to 60 to Tom Blake's
he's another cripple, and more likely to be
worse than better"
"But, deacon, you hadn't heard, suppose
The truth is, he was taken to the poor-house."
Martha, is that so ?" cried the deacon, the
old sternness coming back to his face.
1t is so. He grew SO bad that they
couldn't find any one willing to be burdened
with him, so they put him there"
"I've heard him say, many's the time, he'd
rather die than go there. Poor Tom"
"Yes, it was very hard"
"We'l drive there, Martha"
There was another re-folding Of the shawl,
after the good woman had turned Dobbin's
head in the direction of the poor-house. The
deacon went in, leaning on the arm of his
wife, and led directly to the room Of the old
man, Tom Blake.
Tom looked askance at the deacon, from
whom he had taken many long sermon--for
Tom was as near an inidel as that other god
less man, poor Joe--then at the sight of his
pale, mild countenance, the old man faltered,
he put up his thin hand, turned aside his face
and burst into tears.
tom, I'm sorry to see youhere," said the
deacon, placing his withered hand on the old
mans shoulder.
"Id rather you'd seen me in the grave.
deacon Gray" sobbed the old man. But /
won't die here"-a look of defiance crossed
his features ---"it shant be said that Tom Blake
died pauper No, sir. I'll crawl on my
hands and knees at the last gasp, and Ill
find strength to do it, too, out Of this pauper
place"
"Tom, you shant stay here" said the dea-
con resolutely.
The oily man looked up. His face was pit
iful to see, all dabbled with tears.
"No, Tom / know how you feel. When
was choking with that awful sickness, /
thought I'd give worlds for one easy breath"
" Yes, and I'm choking here /; every mouth
ful | eat, chokes me-"
You shall come out, Tom; be patient
and bear it as well as you can, you shall come
out. If nobody else'll take you, I'll take
you myself"
80, God bless you, deacon Gray! God
bless you for true Christian" cried the
grateful old man, tears of joy falling from his
dim eyes. used tosay hard things Of you,
deacon Gray, because you tried to make me
better man. But the seed you sowed is there
deacon, and if it takes root and ripens, it will
be because | see your faith and your works
go together. You've made a new man of me.
God bless you, deacon Gray"
Old Dobbin took quicker step on his
way home, oats in prospect. As for mother
Gray, the way she patted and tucked that old
shawl, looking up every now and then into
the deacon's face with love that made her
cid face look angelic, was quite a treat to
see. As for the deacon, he thought to HIM
self that he had always held religion as one
) would an ear of corn, ignorant of its use
but now Christ had taught him how to strip
off The husks, and taste the sweetness within,
aud any one looking at him might know he
had FEAST Watchman.
" Goethe tells the following story, which
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