The Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1855-1875, 1873-01-04

WAYNE COUNTY. IND, JAN.

Is ANDes - AN
an errand, she generally left the
door just ajar if she was going away
only few minutes. It happened
that evening, soon after nightfa1,
she ran out to return the paint pot
to its owner; and not q minute
afterwards Q man staggering down
the streets in a helpless, drunken
fashion, laid his hand upon the han
die, found the door open, stepped
IN and by one of those unaccounta-
BILE fresks of drunkenness, walked
straight up stairs without making
himself seen or heard-for Mrs
Burton was in her back parlor, and
Martha was out as we know-and
opening the door stumbled into the
best bed room he flung his old bat
tered hat upon the newly painted
chimney pieceand steadying himself
by it, drew off his heavy boots, and
with his s5iled and heavy clothes up
on him. crept II between the laEen
i tsss sen ~ E1sacled miikswnite
sheets and pillows of Mrs. Burton's
best bed
lt1was no doubt happy circum-
Stance that the old lady. was too
tired at bed time to care to take a
look at her bedroom. She content
ed 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 and their un
known guest, were all saeepiug un-
der one roof.
Itwas early in the morning when
the drunkard q slumber was broken
by some unaccustomed sound. He
opened his eyes and stretched him
self drowsily, but the next instant
he-was wide awake, and his out
streatched arms remained out
stretched IN utter astonishment. The
rising sun shone upon the window
and it's Venetian blinds, and luxu-
RANT green light filed the room.
His rough and grimy hands lay
upon the counterpane of extraorz
dnary whiteness, and his shaggy
head rested upon the softest pillows.
He raised himself on his elbow to
look around, and sank back egain
in blank amazement. Where could
he bea Who was hes Yves it really
himself, Tom Marshal, whose home
was q miserable back room, in on ).
of the lowest of the back streets!
or was he somebody else who had a.
right to be thsre How did he
come into this place at all? He was
SO hewildered 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 eve
fastened upon the illuminated text
pFer tho fireplace. He had been
kEaezghk Mp aeAAnssepnaaa~pAA1aep.
painter, and the fanciful letters did
not puzzle him. The words did
not remove his bewilderment., bnt
they turned his thoughts in another
direction ssThou God, seest, me p
he read half aloud. ssThou, God,
seest, mel" he repeated. What, did
God see him at that moment? He
could see himself in the large look
ing glass, and he could not turn
away from it.
There was he, in the sweetness
and cleanliness and purity, wretch
ed, begrimmed, vile object, not fit
for his own eyes to look upon
Wherever his hand lay there was a
stain upon the whitaness. The pill
low upon which his head had rested
how different it was from the
other pillow which he had not
touchcdl 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 beastss Did God see that
wretched hole of his, where his
poor wife and children lay on straw
and rags, while he had been sleep
ing in such luxury Had Gods eve
been upon him last night, when he
made wager how much beer he
could drink. He could not endure
the thought of it.
e just then he lifted his ewes to the
wall above the glass. There hung
the second text, 'sGodis love" Love
he read aloud. "What!" he said:
'.Love! Is God love- Does He
love met Oh no. that would be
impossible. I hate myself; the
children hate me; Jennie hates me.
Ohif he wonld but love, or turn away
his eyes from me, that he may not
see me! / cannot bear to think
that he sees me"
Thou, God, seest me!s-s1od is
loye! 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 lay at the bottom of Mrs. Bur-
tom pocket. -
She was dressing by this time,
anxious to see how her painting of
the last day was drying: and as soon
as she was ready, having scrupu
lously read a psalm and engaged in
prayer, she hastened to her best
bedroom, opened the door solemnly.
and entered with q careful step.
It would be impossible to des-