St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1872-03-29

that he could hardly want anythin!
more. Yet John does want something
more. He has looked the house al
over to find it; but it is not there. :,
he goes out to seek it elsewhere. Genia
companiOnship. amusement, recreation.
for the coil and spring of his hOyisl
mcttlc, he does not find where his father
and mother are; but he does find then
where other homeless boys gather anc
homeless men are found, where tho
story, the joke, the game, mirth, and
drinking fill up the hours of evening
After this training has been going on
till the boy has got IL fair start down
that way he will he likely to go, tn,
father one day ruhs open his eyes to tn,
real state of the case. He begins to fee
troubled. He is really alarmed. He
wonders why it is that John will act so
He inquiries of himself what can be done
Assuring himself that he has done every
thing which father can do for Il loved
son, n,-''for have not clothed my boy
and found him comfortable home tc
sleep in ?'-he gives him up; what else
can the poor father do ?-he gives his
boy up to the keeping of public benev-
olcnce. Il have done all | can do; my
conscience is clear. Now." he SAYS t.
public charity, ''look ont for your con-
science" And so temperance organiza-
tionS, Good 'Templars, Knights of What
not, take the boy into their keeping and
do what they can for him. The father
is easy again. He takes his evening
paper. reads. and goes to sleep for his
h"y-''is he not safe i'll the hands OF
public keeping? Safe ? Is he safe
Can y"u sleep on NOW and take youI
rest ? Good Templars and such things
devised to pick up the homeless, are
not quite So sure us as-wcll, rs the
laws of Nature, the rising and setting OF
the sun. Divisions and lodges of tenn
perancc may hc faithful IL Thousand
years or SO; but then the sun has been
doing his work faithfully six times as
long.
After Il period of wears | come back
where the home of this family is OF
which John Is so important Il member,
and look i'll upon them once more. A.
only the last week looked into some
of those families that | knew long time
ago. and learned with heart ache OF
their Johns, 50 come back to this fam
father and mother with il lurid smile.
Vet with Il warm grasp of the hand,
welcome me. We sit down. and soon
the talk wandrr> back into the past.
God has been kind to them. though the
burden of Years begins to he heavy up
on them. Their work will soon hc done.
They are finishing up the days Labor
and getting ready for the long evening
and the final sleep. | look about me
and remember. turn To the mother,
and with Il chcerN voice break in. And
" hat has become of of John, that
USED to see ,"
The mother drops her hands. Hell
work falls to the floor. She turns away
her eyes. She cannot answer. In the
meantime. the father has slowly risen
from his seat, and. as if to do some for
gotten thing, has gone out. In Il min
ute | follow him. find him with
dnWncast look, hands claspcd behind
him. pacing I" and tr" on the green
SWald hN the. door. We sit down under
Il maple through which the full moon l.
shaking her beams upon lis, and thcr,
he tells me of John. Il hoped we'll fnI
my boy. | did what could for him
He was my all But he would not stay
at home like Il steady boy. He spent
his evenings abroad. Bad boys and
worse men led him away He learned
t" go with them that have done him II,
good. Not that John WAS naturally
vicious: before he Went with bad mrr
he Was Il GOOD boy. He learned it all
He began /" drink : ut first hrcau>,
others did. Soon he loved it : and
| cannot go over these sad Years. l"r
can think how it has been. Nv boy
is lost T." me: hut if through III,
infinite mercy of God he might mo-
bc lost to hraNcn-. oh. the bun.
den of my heart Is greater than | car
bear. If could think of him in hi,
childhood Innocence and purity aS sal,
under he sod. | should nave some com.
fort in that. But there is not mucl
comfort for me now. The >tafl' that
leaned upon has broken and pierced my
side. can only think of him now an,
say, John. my boy, You do not meal
{" Kill Your father; you know not wha
y"u do; you do not think how You ar,
crushing me down To the grave. Bu
enough of this. Let us go in
In the house we do not talk much
We are not in the mood for it now
| The current has been broken: and II,
one feels like trying to restore it. Afte
IL little while bid the father and mothe
good night, and 60 away. At the en-,
of the gravel walk III the road stop an,
look back to the lighted windows. 1t il
the last look that | shall ever give them
very likely. My thought is, Good ia
ther, YOU never had Il home Yourself
perhaps, and SO you knew not wha
such Il thing would he for "A boy Iik,
John of years ago. You did not know
how you could make your boy love i
forever, as his dear old home. You hat
not learned how to wind the love of i
into his heart. And you did not thinl
how there might be memories of it tha
would make him die rather than east ;
shadow on its hallOwed sunshine"
! The New York Times protests agains
the general disposition on the part o
| the public to regard broken rails OF
railroads unavoidable. In point of fact
it says, they are as strictly the result o
bad management as are collisions
They are due, first, to the Cheap an,
bad iron used i'll building railway tracks
and secondly, to the want of thorough
daily inspection of the road. Rail
made of tough iron, and headed witt
steel, rarely break, and, as il rule, neve
would break were they replaced afte
having been kept i'll service fora prope
length of time. Iron rails, made o
poor material, and kept in Use so lon;
as they present surface enough for tn
wheels of the train, are the sort of rail
that break, and produce what the rail
way companies call unavoidable acci
dents.