Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1871-01-04

papar guided him TO the spot where the
child lay. Il will take you to your papa,
dear he said; don't be frightened. -
Then. quick as thought, be wrapped the
little one in the blanket. and began 10 re-
trace his perilous route. Quick, how
ever, as he had been, the flames had
gained ground, and scorched his feet rs
he stepped over the burning floor. He
rushed TO the window, thinking that by
means of ladder they might escape
that way; But pouring from the win.
dows below him was a sheet of flame.
The burning staircase was the only road.
Tying his handkerchief round his mouth
and nose, to keep out the sufocating
smoke, he CROPPED bis way to the door.
To his horror. he heard a crash one
half of the staircase had gone.
"A deadly terror seized upon him /;
ibe last hope of escape was lost. The
lie which few minutes since had seemed
a burden too heavy 10 bear, suddenly
grew uuutterably precious. His eyes
were blinded, bis throat scorched by the
thick, black smoke, and tongues of flame
were Ieaping up around him, seeking TO
devour him. With awful distiuctnes.
all the evil of his life, crowded into that
one fearful moment. shone out clear as
MONDAY before his eyes. Instruction
wasted, good advice spurned, good RESI-
olutions kroksn, rose up before him; and
one and all seemed to drag him down
lost, lost. LOST for ever aud ever! A
moment since he bad not dared TO live,
now he did not dare to die. That awful
horror lent him almost superhuman
strength. Threading his way through
the flames, which were now rising all
around him, be crept down as far as he
could, and then graspiug the broken
haud-rail, swung himself over, aud
dropped the best he might, depth of
some fifteen feet, into the ball below -
FearfuI!y burned. he had just strength
still holding his burden in his arms
to stagger into the street, and fell sense
less into the firemen's arms.
For many weeks be lowered be-
tween life and death, in the intensest
physical and mental agony. For the
most part Of the time he was delirious,
and haunted by the memory Of that
awful moment when, standing on the
brink of death, he had looked over into
The abyss of eternity. As he regaiued
bis reason new terror came over him,
the dread of the consequences of his
crime. He never woke without fearing
to fiud the officers Of justice at his bed
side, waiting TO carry him before the
Judge. But this last fear had lost its
former horror; being, as it were, swal
lowed up in his overwhelming thankful
ness al having been saved from far
greater crime, the crime that knows no
repentance. On bis bed of pain he
prayed as ne err before--prayed with n
peniteut and thankful heart; and by the
time he was able to sit upright, he was
ready to endure without fiinching the
shame and pain of bis punishment. For
some weeks the evil day was delayed;
but at last, as he was beginning to re
gain strength. a visitor WAS announced,
and bis employer entered the room -
With beating heart, but still resigned.
ne felt that his hour was come, and
uerved himsalf 10 meet it. To his sur
prise, his master made no allusion to his
misconduct, but kindly praised bis cour-
age and bis daring deed; nd the thought
flashed across him that hiA folly and sin
were still unknown, and if he did but
keep his own counsel, might so remain
forever. The tempter whispered, Be 81
lent and for a moment be was inclined
to Weld; but his good angel triumphed.
With bowed head and downcast eyes he
told The story of bis sin, and waited to
hear his sentence from the man he bad
wronged. For few minutes the good
old man (God bless bimD was silent,
and then he said, with tears in his eyes:
my lad, am glad that you have
told me this, very glad; although l knew
it before. You have committed n great
sin. and you have suffered heavy pun
Ishment. Thank God. who in his mercy
has saved you from far greater sin--a
sin whose punishment is for ever and ev-
or. You have been through fiery Fri
al; let your future life show that you
have been truly 'purged ia the fire. For
your offence against myself God forbid
that / should add to your punishment
| forgive you with oil nv heart, my boy,
and you need have no fear about COM
ing back to your old place in the offiss,
for no one except myself will ever know
word of the matter. One thing.
however you must promise me--never to
enter a gamtling-houss, or to stake
money at play again"
.That do, Sir, upon nay hon he
began, and ,hsn stopped short, as the
unfitness of the word. from one in bis
situation, flashed cruelty upon him..
"Nay, lad" said the old man, holding
ont hi. hand, don't take it back, that
is Just the way in which want your
promise. Upon your honor, mind. 1t
is little furnished now; let it be the Ia
Dor of your life to make and keep it
bright"
sand, with Gods help he did. He
rose from that bed. where for so many
weeks he had lain in peril Of his life, an
altered man. His former friends won
dered at the change. and declared that be
had left bis youth in the fire; but they
knew nothing of tue fercer fire which
during those long weeks had ragged in
his bosom, aud had scorched away the
rel;sb for vouthful foIiss. Having stood