Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1875-10-01
sTAUNToN, VIRGINIA, FRIDAY, OCTOBER !, 1875.
then congratulated me upon the way had

He asked, too, for this young lady's az
dress which she had given me quite co.
rect; and then left the shop without anotl
er word.
You must give me leave to tell the res
of the story in my own way, although
may be in very different way from tina
which the reverend parsonage employed il
relating it to me afterwards.
It seemed that it was a runaway match
A country baront's son had fallen i'll low
with the clergymans' daughter in the vii
lage where his father lived and they TAI
away and got married. They then came
up to London, these two dear young things
for neither his father, nor hers either
for the matter of that, would have any
thing to say to the match-he full OF hope
of getting on in the literary line; and she
poor creature, full Of trust in him
The project of living by literature did
not turn out what was expected. The
young fellow without experience OF friends
spent much time ill going about from one
publisher to another, and sending his
writings to the editors Of the various maya
zines-which, I need not say, were always
returned with thanks" And then he
fell ill; typhus, I fancy, brought on by in
sufficient nourshment, bad drainage, and
disappointed hopes. The register general
doesn't give return of these cases in any
list that an aware OF. But we know
something of them in our line Of business,
nevertheless.
1t was just at this time that Mr.. Board
man found Mrs. Vincent-for that was the
name of the young lady who came to my
shop with the gold SEAL Cambridge ter
race is not very far from Angel at Isling-
ton, and there is little back street OF
small, respectable houses, inhabited by
junior clerks, with here and there lodg-
| ing house, in one Of which Mr.. and Mrs.
| Vincent lived.
They are little shy at first Of a stran-
ger, and q little proud and naughty per-
haps People who have seen better days
and are down upon their luck, are apt to
be So But the parson, with his pleasant
ways and CHEEKY voice, soon made it all
right, and in {; jiffy he and MI. Vincent
were talking about college, for they had
both been to the same university. And
there was soon even a smile, too-a wan
smile enough-upon the poor invalid S
sharp cut, thin face, with the hollow cara
way eyes, which looked at you as if out of
cavern. He was a wreck of fine young
fellow, too; of one who had been used to
hunting and fishing and all the fine coun-
try sports which make broad chested,
strong-limbed country people the envy of
us poor, thin, pale townsfolks.
MI Boardman came direct to me when
he left them. I did not live far off, and
he thought that [ might lend them a
neighbours help. 'Davis,' said he, "that
poor fellow is dying; can see death in his
eyes,"
"What is he dying OPP [ replied.
He looked at me steadfastly moment,
and [ could see moisture in his eye; he
said slowly and solemnly: ''Of starvation,
Davis-of actual want of food"
GA gentleman starving in London, in
Islington, baronet's son, too. Why, it's
Incredible"
IN OF at all, said Mr.. Boardman. sthese
are the very people who die of starvation
in London and in all great cities. Not
the poor, who knew where the workshop
is, and who can get at the relieving Off
Ger, if the worst comes to the worst, but
the well-born, who've fallen into destitute
poverty, and who carry their poverty with
them, and dive into a back alley like some
wild animal into a hole, to die alone. MI.
Vincent wants wines and jellies and all
sorts of good things. if help HASN'T come
too late. No, no, my FRIEND" he con-
tinued, putting back my hand, for / was
ready to give my money in a proper cause,
s: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 a bit Mrs. Vincent hasn't
forgotten your kindness to her, / can as
sure you. And / think her husband would
like to thank you, too, and it would rouse
him up bit, perhaps And then Mr..
Boardman told shortly something of what
these two poor things had gone through
she loving and trusting him so, and he
half mad that he had brought her to this
pass and could do nothing for her.
MI. Boardman wrote that very day to
the baronet, a proud, hard man, Pm told.
But the letter he wrote back was soft
enough, and melting to read, it was 90 full
Of human nature, you see-the fathers
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, MI. Davis, " he said, s'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
shouldn't Christianity itself be with a gen.
eral peace maker as that?"
cay" replied Mr.. Boardman, eff people
only believed in it properly
That very day we got the baronet's let
ter I was on my way in the afternoon te
Cambridge terrace to pay my respects te
Mrs Vincent-and L had sent in a few
bottles Of good port wine from nay owr
wine merchant-at least as good as can be
got for money or love. Well, when col
near the door, l saw an old gentleman
walking up and down. a little disturbed
apparently, in his mind at finding himself
in such queer locality, and as if looking
for something or somebody. A short, rosy
faced person he was, clean shaved as {
pin, and very neat and old-fashioned il
his dress, and with a sort of all about hin
which marks an English country gentle
man wherever he may be. Well, we sool
got into talk, for I'd spotted the baronet
in moment, as he was anxious to find on