The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1873-05-02
An Unhappy Man.

Two were Sehltu over Tile
remains of late dinner in New York, and
chatting as friends will after long sep
aration. One of them was merchant
of the metropolis, the other returned
Californian, who had been absent from
New York for six days.
1t would be hard to imagine stronger
contrast than these friends presented to
each other. Tom Bayley, the merchant,
was slight, dapper little man, with
blue eyes and blonde whiskers, whose
face was the very impersonation of good
nature and frank kindness. His COM
panion, tall, dark and heavily bearded,
was evidently bowed down 10y some bit
ter sorrow, some deep ever present grief,
that clouded his large dark eyes, and
made even his smile seldom seen.
"And now" said Tom, "tell me
something OF yourself. l hear You are
to be congratulated upon legacy from
your uncle, of an odd half million or
So"
"Not quite so much as that. Tom !;
four hundred thousand, if you want the
figures"
"Quite enough for congratulations, p"
was the smiling reply.
SilIi tut Olllti,
bitterly. g L am no subject for those,
if you knew ALL"
Tom looked sympathetic. His friend
had been away so long that he scarcely
knew how or where to bestow the con-
dolence evidently expected, so he only
looked sorrowfully into the sad face
before him.
"You never knew my wife," said
Ralph VENT, after moment of silence
"our meetings were generally in bust
ness quarters, and Ellie was not strong,
so / never bothered her much with COM
pany. When the crash came that swept
away business and credit, we had a
lovely home in Harlem, and | was the
happy father of two sweet little girls,
two and three years old. My creditors
were entitled 10 all l possessed, and l
was trying to find situation as clerk in
dry goods house, when my uncle and
godfather wrote me from San Francisco
that he would start me in business there,
if / would come out alone. He was a
savage old bachelor, and wanted no wo-
man and children around him, though
he graciously agreed to their coming
when L was sufficiently well-establshed
held many an anxious discussion before
/ decided to leave her, but finally | re-
solved to go for year, leaving Ellie ut
her mothers in Philadelphia.
'For a year all went well, and my
uncle consented to allow me to start a
home for my wife and little ones.
wrote to Ellie TO meet me in New York,
and proposed to sail by the Labrador.
The day the steamer left / was seized
with malarious fever and lay for weeks
at the point of death. When / recover
ed the first news / heard was of the tale
of the loss of the Labrador with all on
board.
81 wrote TO Ellie at once, and found
that during my illness she had written
me an answer to my last, saying she
would meet me, and telling me of the
sudden death of her mother.
No answer came to my letter, anu
as soon as was able L sailed for New
York. / traced my wife from Philadelphia
to clearinghouse here, where j was
informed that she had the smallpox,
and was taken to the hospital. The
children were sent away, nobody could
tell where.
"Tom, / never knew any more.
Money, inquiries, advertisements, We're
all lavished in vain. The records of the
smallpox hospital show the death OF
two women named Wentz, so there
seems little doubt of poor Ellie's fate
but about the children L could Learn
nothing. Every steamer brought mt
urgent recalls from my uncle, and
finally returned TO San Francisco. My
uncle is dead. am rich. There is the
story. Judge if millions of money car
make me happy"
cit is very sad. But now you are
free and wealthy. You may yet fine
your little girls.
"Alas / fear they are dead perhaps
begging in the streets. They were sucl
babies Tom, such mere babies y
There was a deep silence, when there
rose on the clear frosty air the music o
a chime of bells, playing a Christina
hymn. -, ~, ii.
Christmas eve" said Ralph, sadly
"Christmas eve," echoed his compan
ion.