The Sumter watchman. [volume] (Sumterville, S.C.) 1855-1881, 1871-04-12
One of Life's Stories.
BY VIOLET.
BY VIOLET.
"Tis true it is 8 pity!
And pity tits, 'tis true"


who there congregate, to bemoan their
weekly shortcomings and confess them
selves "miserable Sinners" there has
terminated within few months one oil
those solemn tragedies which we some
times call life; and which might posi-
bly, aud its counterpart even in our own
goodly city. l much touch lightly the
tragic events, and give but passing
cIance, for it will not 90 to introduce to
eyes and ears polite, the darkest shades
of the great l;mner, sin.
Christian fathers and high toned
brothers must preserve thei' wives,
daughters aud sisters from even a sus
picion of the frailty aud crime which
has engul(ed so many Of the sisterhood-
Let them devoutly thank God that these
same cherished ones have not, from
poverty and the rude contacts With it
brings. been placed at the mercy OF men
who have like passions with themselves
who might not be any more noble or
generous than they have been to others.
Ann [ moralizing too long? Will you
skip this part. eager for the story?
1t was bright, glad summer morn
ing; the air clear and sweet, and every
one, in meeting friend or acquaintance,
said instinctively f: isn't this fine
day ?" Men aud women saunter along
leisurely, as though to prolons the en-
ioyment of the hour; but there comes
one who in her haste rather ruiely
iostles against the fairer and better
dressed women on the street.
Her story of sin and shame is written
indelibly upon her face, and you would
naturally shrink from so much as her
taudry inery brushing against yoar gar
ments. She hurries en- regardless of the
many who turn to stare at her, never
once looking at the blue sky which
bends so cloudless over all. Suddenly
she stops, glances up at house, opens
the gate, ascends the steps and rings the
bell; all with such a defiant manner,
one wonders what her errand can be-
She asks for Mrs Maynard and says her
business is urgent.
There comes in answer one who is
somewhat accustomed to strange calls at
unreasonable b. urs, and from her noble
countepance one could pronounce upon
her at once, as a large hearted, christian
woman. She is greeted with, 81 came
to you, because l was told Jou would
not be afraid to 90 with me aud pray
with dying girl"
"!Shc moaned all night for some one,
and this is the fifth place I've been to-
and oil have had some excuse and scnt
ne to another. sht 60 Tor minis
ter, but somehow l thought woman
wonld understand better. guess one
of them world have gone, but when she
came to know who | am, she looked
frightened aud said, 1T wouldn't do for
her to 90, her husband would be dis
pleased I'm called Clara Guln aud
my home is on on--street, No.
1t is notorious, but you may never have
heard oft. IT'S bad. place enough
but you can 60 there and sec nobody
but the poor girl; she's got to die to-
day or Tomorrow at the furthcst
though she thinks she will live week
or more"
There was 10 hcsitancy about Mrs
Maynard; she simply said; 81 will go
with you Immediately"
The sin-covered woman passed on, and
with rapid steps she put quite distance
between herself aud the one whom IN
her heart she thought almost saint
Alta crossing or turn she paused that
she might be in sight, aud some fifteen
minutes walk took them to their distlna
tioo. She entered with her latcd-key'
passed in and upstairs withou: any
pause; opened a door and beckened to
her companion to enter.
On low couch with but little to
make hcr comfortable there was youn
girl, wasted by sickness, her large black
ewes ,retsrnaturally bright, aHd fixed
look Of grief and sorrow upon her death
stricken face that you felt at once no
earthly comfort could remove. .
al have brought some one who will
pray with you" said the woman Who
had called herself Clara. ado you feel
any easier now" ~
As Mrs Maynard advanced he
bedside, she placed her hand upon the
brow so broad and white, and thought,
surely sometime it must have been
baptized with mothers love and kisses
She said "Poor child, | have come to
help you if you will let me-" Such a
wistlul, agonized look as met the
motherly gaze. The girl said, al am
called Kate Ray, 'tis not my real name,
no one here knows that, for twas buried
long ago. Will you hold my hands. do
YOU mind. l have beer dreadful wicked
and | am afraid to die. had mother
once and she used to tell ME of God
but she died years ago, and no one has
tried to make me good since. The one
loved best and trusted most, has made
me what am. 1t it a long story, but
may tell you? think it would Tighten
my heart some"
Encouraged by the sympathetic looks
and fearful eyes she commenced, but
often had to pause to have her poor
parched lips and throat moistened by
some drink which had been prepared
for her.
She continued, 81 lived of in the
country, 1 shall not tell where, for DC
not wish any of them ever to know wha'
has become Of me. Our folks were poor
LII oonld nnt dress as veil az most n1