Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1875-08-11

full of hopes of getting on in the liter
ally and artistic line, and she, poor crea-
ture, full of trust in him.
The project of living by literature
did not turn out what was expected
The young fellow, without experience
or friends, spent much time going
from one publisher to another, and
sending bis writings to the editors of
the various magazines-which I need
not say were always returned with
thanks" And then he fell i'll; typhus,
I fancy, brought on by insufficient
nourishment, and bad drainage, and dis
appointed hopes. The registrar
gene raj doesn't give return OF these
cases in any list that I am aware of.
But we see something OF them In our
line Of business, nevertheless.
It was just this time that Mr.. Broad
was the name of the young lady who
came to my shop with gold seal.
Cambridge Terrace is not very far from
the Angel of Islingtop, and there, in a
little back street of small, respectable
houses, inhabited by junior clerks,
with here and there lodging house,
in one of which Mr.. and Mrs. Vincent
lived.
They were rather shy at first of a
stranger, and little proud and haugh-
ty, perhaps. People who Lave seen
better days, and are down upon their
luck, are apt to be so. But the parson,
with his pleasant ways and CHEEKY
voice, socn made it all right; and, in
jiffy, he and Mr.. Vincent were talking
about college, for. they both had been
to the same university. And there was
even soon a smile, too-a wan smile
enough-upon the poor invalid's sharp
cut, thin face, with the hollow, far-away
eyes, which looked at you as if out Of
cavern. He was the wreck offne young
fellow, too; of one who had been used
to his hunting and shooting, and all the
fine country sports which make broad
chested, strong limoed country people
the envy of us poor, thin, pale towns
folk.
Mr.. Broadman came direct to me
when he left them. I did not 1--we far
off, and he thought that might lend
them neighbors help. Claws" says
he, ''that poor fellow is dying; can
see death in his eyes,"
"What is he dying OFF," I replied.
He looked at me steadfastly for mo-
ment, and could see moisture in his
eye, as he said slowly and solemnly,
"Of starvation, Davis-of actual want
of food"
"A gentleman starving in London,
in Islington, baronets son too Why,
it's incredible.
6 Not at ALL" said Mr.. Broadman;
these are the very people who do die
of starvation in London, and in all great
cities. Not the poor, who know where
the workhouse is, and who can get at
the relieving officer, if the worst comes
to the worst; bat the well-born, who
have fallen into destitute poverty, and
who carry their pride with them, and
dive into back alley, like some wild
animal into hole, to die alone. Mr..
Vincent wants vino and jellies and all
sorts of good things; if help hasn't
come too late. No, no, my friend" he
continued, putting back my hand, for
was ready to give my money in proper
cause. "No, no: have left them all
they want at present, Davis. But I'll
tell you what you can do; you can, if
you like to play the good Samaritan, go
and see them, and cheer them up bit.
Mrs. Vincent hasn't forgotten your
kindness to her, can assure you. And
I think her husband would like to thank
you too, and it would rouse him up
bit, perhaps" And then Mr.. Broadman
told me, shortly, something of what
these two poor things had gone through
oh
he, half mad that he had brought her to
this pass, and could do nothing for her.
Mr.. Broadman wrote that very day to
the baronet, a proud, hard man, I'm
told. But the letter he wrote back was
soft enough, ard melting to read; it was
so full of human nature, you see-the
fathers heart swelling up at the
thought of getting back his son; and
bursting through the thick crust of
pride which had prevented him from
making the first advances. And the
parson says to me:
Well, Mr.. Davis, there are many
people kept asunder only for want of
somebody to go between them you see,
and make peace"
And [ said, partly to myself: "Why
ouOuAA1 NAiAoC1oA4Uy AtSOA NC SuCa d
general .oeacemaker as that ?"
cay" replied Mr.. Broadman, 'sif
people only believed in it properly
That very day we get the baronet's
letter, was on my way, in the after
noon, to Cambridge Terrace, to pay my
respects to Mrs. Vincent-and I'd had
sent in few bottles of good old port
wine from my own wine-merchant-
least as good as can be got for money
or love. Well, when I got near the
door, saw an old gentleman walking
up and down, little disturbed appa-
rently, in his mind at finding himself
in such a queer locality, and as if look
ing for something, or somebody. A
short, rosy-faced person he was, clean
shaved as pin, and very neat and old
fashioned in his dress; and with that
sort of air about him which marks al
English country gentleman wherever
he may be. Well, we soon got into
talk, for I'd spotted the baronet in q
moment oyfd ha woa opyio11c To find