Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1872-12-13

!. without making himself seen or heard
for Mrs. Burton was shut up In her back
sparlor, and Martha as we know was out
and opening the door, stumbled into the
best bedroom. He flung his old battered
hat upon the newly painted chimney piece,
and steadying himself by it, drew off his
heavy boots. and with all his soiled and
dirty clothing upon him, crept 10 between
the lavender scented, blanched milk white
- sheets and pillows of Mrs. Burton's best
bed.
1t was no doubt happy circumstance
that the old lady was too tired at bed time
to care to take look at her bedroom.
She contented herself with locking the
door and carrying away the key. resolved
to see how the paint was drying the first
thing in the morning. Before long she
and Martha, with their unknown guest
were all sleeping under one roof.
1t was early in the morning when the
arunkard's slilmber was broken by some
unaccustomed sound. He opened his eyes
and stretched himself drowsily, but the
next instant he was wide awake, and his
outstretched arms remained outstretched
in inter establishment. The rising sun
shone upon the window and its Venetian
blinds, and luxuriant green light filled
the room. His rough and grlmf hands
lay upon Counterpart OF extraordinary
whiteness, and his shaggy head rested
upon the softest of pillows. He raised
himself on his elbow to look round, and
sank back again in blank amazement.
Where could he be? Who was he? Was it
really himself, Tom Marshall, whose home
was miserable bare room, in one of the
lowest of the back streets? Or was he
somebody else who had right to be
there ?--How id he come into this place
at all :? He was SO bewildcred that he lay
still for while, trying his best to think.
But it would not do. He raised himself
again to take survey, and his eyes fas-
tened upon the illuminated text over the
fireplace. He had been brought up as an
ornamental sign painter. and tho fanciful
letters did not puzzle him. The words
did not remove his bewi.derment, but they
turned his thoughts in another direction.
Thou God. seest r. he read halt aloud.
Thou, God, seest, me he repeated.
What, did God see him at that moments
He could see himself in the large looking
glass, and he could not turn away his
head from it.
There was he, in the sweetness and
CtchuHhCso oud Puhitys q WiOtehSu, "
grimmed, vile object, not fit for his own
eyes to look upon. Wherever his hand
fell there was stain upon the whiteness.
The pillow upon which his head had rest
ed-how different it was from the other
pillow which he had not touched He was
disgusting even to himself He could see
his own face and form in that dainty room.
And was it true that God saw him-just as
he was, degraded below the beasts? Did
God see that xretched hole of his, where
his poor wife and children lay on straw
and rags, while he had been sleeping in
such luxury? Had Gods eye been upon
him last night, when he made a wager
how much beer he could drink He could
not endure the thought of it.
Just then he lifted his eyes to the wall
above the glass. There hung the second
text, "God is Love y he read aloud.
"What !" he said; 'Love! Is God love !?
Does he love me Oh no! that would bo
impossible. hate myself; the children
hate me; Jennie hates me. Oh, if he
would but love me, or turn away his eyes
from me, that he may not see me! can
not bear to think that he sees me-
Thou, God, seest me !''-"God is love =
The poor fellow was half distracted with
the multitude of thoughts, and the idea OF
getting up and making his escape did not
once cross his mind. He could not have
done it, for the key OF the door hay at the
bottom of Mrs. Burtons pocket.