Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1871-04-07
NO. 83.

nob come over MIN. Might 1t not be that
at last his troubles were in some way
about to end?
"a little more coffee, partner % said
one OF the men, plying him in that en-
forced seclusion and loneliness, as well as
evident debility, and therefore advancing
to him, battered pot and cup in hand.
''Thanksr' And the sick man, half
raising himself, took deep draught of
the muddy ligui,i
"That's right. And pipe ?" continued
the man.
81 will try" was the answer, with some
doubt and hesitation. And he put the
well-filled pipe to his lips, but after mo-
ment the smoke seemed to strangle him,
and he was obliged to desist
perhaps can smoke again when l am
better, he somewhat mournfully said. II
was fond of my pipe, once-and of my
drink, too, though that last was not as it
should have been. Now, somehow, the
relish for the pipe is gone, but the craving
for the other is still here. / will try
will try hard. indeed to conquer it when I
get well-indecd will, for her sake" he
murmured, halt to himself Tell me, do
you think that | shall ever get well2
"Why, as to that. partner, you know you
are pretty sick man. responded the 9TH
/ u, h"euia any DluHt anu lTutUIul III MS
manner, and yet not wishing to say any
thing unpleasant. "Of course, YOU must
feel that, yourself But for all that, many
sicker man has got well at the last and
! take it you ought to be able to do what
other man have done, if you will only give
your mind to it,
"If could only get well,' murmured
the sick man, 1T could only believe
was going to do so-even that might help
little! If that cannot be, at least /
would so like to live to get home, again
Not that | have much that could be called
a home, if any. The house is in strange
hands, now-and those who were nearest
akin to me have long been dead But
there are the hills, and the brooks, that
yet sometimes see in my dreams, and it
seems as though even they would know
me again, if l came among them. And
there are. perhaps, a few old friends left,
who, for the sake OF other times, might
take care of me to the end. And there is
there is she, who"
Aha girl in the case?'' said the 9th
er. Somehow, there always is, do you
know?"
Speaking thus the man turned his head
somewhat longingly towards the camp
fire; for, at that moment there came the
knew that he was losing something pleas
ant in the way of rcpartee or story. He
was kind-hearted man, indeed-or else
he would not have thought to pay those
attentions to the sick man but still, hav-
ing now rendered coffee and tobacco, he
had done all that seemed possible, and it
was hardly to be expected that he should
remain there and lose the good things that
were going, in order to listen to reminis-
cences in which he could take no possible
interest. So, seeing that the invalid for
the moment closed his eyes and said no
more, be softly stole back to his compan-
ions; and when again the other looked up
at the quiet stars, he saw that he was once
more alone.
He did not find that an irksome matter,
however-rather preferring the solitude,
indeed In his momentary longing for
sympathy, had he not been upon the point
OF making confession of his past life, and
even of mentioning the name of her
whose name should never be spoken where
it might be treated lightlyP To stran-
ger. too-who, however sympathetic for
the instant, would care nothing at heart
about hearing the story. and who, going
his way again, would surely either heed
lessly forget all about it, or else make
jest of it before his companions. Better
to remain quiet. therefore, and nurse his
hopes and anticipations, his memories and
regrets, in silent reflection, still looking
might impart some peace to his own soul.
Now that he was on his homeward
route, how near again seemed all things
at that yet far-off East! 1t had not always
been so. Many time during that long
absence OF four years, home and all its
associations had seemed as distant, and
as family impressed upon his memory as
though he had been transported into an
other planet. Not at first, indeed, when,
newly arriving in the gorgeous Ganges
District, he had given himself up to the
earnest labor of the day, resolving to do
a mans whole duty in lite and carve out
way to fortune, so that at last he might
return home with satisfied conscience and
enjoy the blessings that had been reserved
for him. Not then-but afterward, when
he had fallen into evil company and with
them had gone adrift down the swift tide
of destruction, and when the letters he
sent home gradually grew fewer and
then altogether ceased with the merited
loss of his lucrative position-and when
the shame and disgrace became less and
less felt by him, and the restless disposi-
liou " ""huoi SicW upou uiIils Until lTOIu
India to China seemed only a step, and
so naturally led onward, he crossed the
ocean and followed the strong tide of i'm
migration that began to flow through the
Golden Gate. Then, gradually. his home
faded almost altogether from his thoughts,
seeming, when remembered, rather like a
scene from some long-ago perused novel
than an actual reality-something which
he might once have heard of in tradition
some stories of centuries ago, which, as he
might probably never review it. it was
hardly worth while to recall. But now.
with his footsteps set upon the homeward
path, the old scenes seemed to come near
again and brighten up with renewed and
pleasant familiarity of aspect. 1t was
once more as though he had only to 60
around some intervening corner to bring
them all into view-as if everything was
yet unchanged. Four years indeed What
| If it were so? How often did men 60
| away for q lon uar time than that and re-