The Plymouth Democrat. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1869-1941, 1870-02-24

AUSTRALIANA.

hole in it. 1t was lucky coin. l won
der If the kind hearted gentleman who
gave it me guessed wasn't an every day
street musician? / think he did, for he
stepped up to me so kindly, and handed
it To me so gently, that | was certain he
had his thoughts on me more than on my
music. There was young lady with him,
on his arm-his daughter, think, for |
fancied that l heard her say "papa" to
him. Though, for the matter of that, she
might have been his wife, repeating her
children's name for her husband. All mel
children, and wife, and home They had
a nice house and nice furniture, no doubt,
and plenty to eat and to drink, and where
withal to be decently and elegantly clothed.
They had all their household gods en-
shrined in comfort, and they were happy,
| could see that they were; while the
player who stood before their door, and
tried to minister more pleasure still to
them, was far otherwise.
Some day intend writing the history
of that fearful time of expectation and
misery; but here | pass over it to that
dread day when l knew | had not the
price of another weeks lodging for my
poor darlings. There were the horse and
gig, to be sure, which Smith, with whom
Il
about eight o. ten pounds in Melbourne
But | did not dare to think about parting
with them any more than with my cloth
ing; seeing that if got situation any
where out of Melbourne, should have
no other means of getting my wife and
my chickens to our new home. 1t was
Heavens own mercy then, am sure, that
the day for paying my insurance premium
was not near at hand. NV life was in
sured for nearly thousand pounds-all
left by my will to them. Often have |
thought since, how many men must die
accidentally on purpose" Ever since my
marriage | had managed to keep up the
payment of my premiums and feel sure
that in my despairing state of mind at this
crisis, it would have been too much for
my reason: the thought of losing the
only provision l had made for my treas
ures, through inability to pay the pre-
MUM, or through living up to the time
the last was due
All, my dear reader, pray God that you
may never be brought to understand the
fuil meaning of the words, In order to
live L must do sOnething' / feel aston
lshed that that something is not often
more unlawful than it really is. l often,
too, think with trembling what, at that
time, | should have done for nv wife and
children if | hadn't thought of trying my
fortune as street musician
1t occurred to me at first that ought to
try for an engagement in some concert
hall or musical tavern as a negro minstrel
L didn't seek an engagement among the
negroes, however, for fear l should be
recognized, even through the lampblack
No; | made up my mind to try my for
tune all alone, seeking the darkest places
only. Should | disguise myself? Yes, il
necessary. But how? that was the rub.
| thought at first of merely backing my
face, then Of turning it of a tawny hue
only. Then determined to make clean
shave OF all my face-hair then of play
ing all manner of changes by means OF
the mustache and beard. Finally, how
ever, didn't do anything to my face, in
aSmuch as was not living in house OF
my own, and didn't want to attract the
attention of my kind-hearted but timid
landlady. She might take the alarm, and
turn us all out of her house, and then what
could be done?
Some years before met an old friend
lady too; and we know how observant
they are-in Sydney, aud positively she
didn't recognize me because had on one
OF the new fashioned helmet hats. This
lucky recollection made me feel sure
that head dress might be made suffi
clent disguise for me, and / attempted nc
other, except the putting on of an old
loose coat
My poor wife, when l got home, saw il
my face that had been unsuccessful thai
day in getting a place / had fondly ex
pected. 1t was halt past six o'clock thi
gloomy autumEal day, and she had heart
my horse coming along the stony road il
the dusk, and had run out with the can
die in her hand To learn the news from m
whilst embarrassed the horse and stable,
him. The light held up to my face, thougI
the face smiled, told her all but she Dor
1t bravely, and made no sign. 1t had beel
/ got home, although it had then cleare,
up-at least, into sad wintry fog-I wa
wet to the skin. To tell the truth, indeed
/ hadn't taken the smallest trouble in tn,
world to keep myself dry, or warm, o
otherwise comfortable. My wife saw tn
expression of my face, and knew tn
worst And then, while she began tell
ing me in her most cheerful voice hov
my favorite pudding was waiting for me
and the dinner-tea was smoking ho
on the table, the good little woma
put the candle on the stable floor an
set to work with her trembling hands I
unfastcn the harness of the horse. Sh
kept talking all the time, with only
quaver here and there in her sweet voice
and actually forced a laugh, too, at he
awkwardness in grOom's work. 1t wa
only incidentally, as il were, that L sur
pose you didn't get that beggarly place
and it's just as well, dear, indeed" cam
out And she handed me the horses food
which she had, in the daytime, laid b
ready in cloth, and led the horse up t
his manger, while / carried in his harness
sad rags by this time
Now come and take your nice he
dinner, and we'll have such pleasant tai
afterwards. / have got something particu
lar to tell you"
And she took me by the arm.
My poor fellow How cruel of m
not to have noticed it before Why, yo
are dripping wet Why didn't yo
shelter' Come along and change you
things Immediately"
And did change my things immediat,
ly; for her loving forethought had Pre-
vIded warm on the fender everythins
from socks to coat. Then set to work
the eatables with what appetite might
and the extent of that may be guessed .
The children had already thoughtful
been washed and put to their beds, to b
out of papas way; and then after ou
meal-while Mrs. Tom Smith, with whou
We lodged, put the tea-things away-m
wife and went out to the garden and b,
gan talking together over cur poor fol
tunes. told her Of the events of the da,
and of my new plan for earning livin