The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1871-01-06
HistrLIaneons
THE DARK HOUR,

Il can SCanu IL any longer, Jane,
rll go out, and perhaps something
will turn up for u.s."
Sits a cold night, Robert"
"Cold, yes! But it's not much
colder outside than in. 1t would have
been much better for you, if you had
married John Tremain," be. said bit
terly.
"Don't say that, Robert, I've never
regretted my choice"
'Not even now, when there is not
a loaf of bread in the house, for you
and the childrenP'
"Not even now, Robert Don't be
discouraged. God has not forsaken
US. Perhaps this Christmas eve the
tide will turn, better days may dawn
upon US tomorrow.
Robert Brice shook his head de-
spondingly.
"You are more hopeful than /
Jane. Day after day / have been in
search of employment. 1 have called
in fifty places, only to receive the
same answer everywhere" !"
Just then little Jimmy, who had
been, asleep, woke up.
"Mother," he pleaded, 'won't you
give me a piece of bread? 1 am SO
hungryp
sThere is no bread, Jimmy, dar-
ling" said the mother, with aching
heart.
"When will there be some| asked
the child, piteously.
Tears came to the mothers eyes.
She knew not what to say.
"Jimmy, I'll bring you some
bread" said the father hoarsely, and
he seized his hat and went to the
door.
His wife, alarmed, laid her hand
upon his sleeve. She saw the look
in his eyes, and she feared to what
step desperation might lead him.
Remember Robert" she said sol
emnly, at is hard to starYe, but there
are things that are worse
He shook off her hand, but not
roughly, and without a word passed
out.
Out in the cold street, That
would be their only home next. For
a brief time longer he had the shelter
of a cheerless room in a cold tene.
ment house, but the rent would be
come due at the end of the month,
and he had nothing to meet it.
Robert Brice was a mechanic, com
petent and skilful. Three years since
he lived in q country village where
his expenses were moderate, and he
found no difficulty in meeting them
But in an evil hour he grew tired oi
his village home and removed to the
city. Here he vainly hoped to dc
better. For while he met with very
good success, but he found his tene.
ment house in which he was obliged
to live, poor substitute for the neat
cottage which he had occupied in
the country: He saw his mistake
but was too proud to go back.
"Of course 1 can't have as good
accommodation here as in the coun-
try" he said, "but it is something
to live in, and be 10 the midst o.
things"
"Fd rather be back sgain,' saiC
his wife; somehow the city dosen't
seem like home; there 1 used to run
in and take tea with neighbor, anC
have pleasant social time; here
know scarcely anybody"
you'll get used to it after while,
said her husband.
She did not think so, but did no
like to complain.
But a time of great depression
came, and with it a suspension O.
business enterprise. Work ceased
for Robert Brice and many others
If he had been in his old home, he
could have turned his hands to some
thing else, and at the worst coulC
have borrowed of his neighbors til
better times. But the friendly re
Iations arising from neighborhood dc
not exist in the city to the same ex
tent as in the country. So day BY
day he went out to seek for work
only to find himself one of a large
number, all of whom were doomed
to disappointment. If he had beer
| alone, he could have got along some
how, but it was a sore trial to come
to a cheerless room and pale wife and
hungry children with no relief to of
fer them.
When on that Christmas Eve
Robert Brice went into the streets, hC
hardly knew how he was going tC
redeem the promise he had made
little Jimmy; he was absolutely pen
niless and had been so for threC
DAYS; there was nothing that he wal
likely to find to do that night.
81 will pawn my coat" he said al
last; Il cannot see my wife and
children starve."
at was well worn overcoat, anC
that cold winter night he needed
something more to keep him warm
weakened by enforced fasting, hi
. NOS mora eonsiti7ra Tn +ha nold onf