Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1875-06-10
ONLY A TRAMP.
BY MARY E. QUACKENBUsH.

l.
A STRIKING contrast! On one side of
the iron fence beautiful house and
neutrality-suspicious. grounds. The grass
on the lawn was like soft, green velvet,
and here and there were patches of scar
let geraniums, stately white lilies and
gay yerbenas. And in the midst of
these bright-hued flowers and carefully
trained shrubs a fountain, guarded by
white marble nymphs, tossed up it's
sparkling spray.
And up on gently-rising knoll stood
the house-a fine stone mansion-appear-
ing both graceful and substantial; the
home of luxury and refinement.
This within the gate.
Outside--a man clad in travel-stained
and tattered garments. His face had
once been handsome, his dark eyes once
shone with a clear, steady light, his
form was once borne erectly. But now
all was changed.
1ntemperance had taken away wife,
children, friends, property and manhood
Feeble, poor and homeless he wandered
about-only tramp" For hours that
day he had travelled along the dusty
road, the hot sun beating down upon his
head. Tired, hungry and footsore he had
at last come to what to him seemed a
palace beautiful; and so no wonder that,
under the shade Of the trees, he paused
to rest.
The bottle in his pocket had been
drained the afternoon before. Fortu-
nately he had come to no place where
he might fill it again, and so for the time
reason reigned in the mans mind, and
with it came the old, bitter remorse be-
cause of his sin, the old, aching sorrow
and shame because of his degradation.
But he strove 80 drive away the I'M
comfortable feelings by murmurlng at
Providence. And he said, as he looked
at the handsome house and grounds
"And l say God is cruel and unjust to
give some people so much and me so lit
tler
Then conscience whispered: God
also gave thee many things, but thou
with thine own hand didst cast them
away"
The bitter truth cut deep into his
heart, and laying his hot forehead on the
cool iron railing Of the fence he wept.
Suddenly q little hand was laid on the
bowed head of the tramp. He hastily
glanced up and saw standing before him
little girl, Birdie Leigh, the only child
Of the gentleman who owned the house
and grounds.
A gentle, refined child, within whose
dark, luminous eyes was a sanity look,
as if she had, during all the eight years
OF her young life, walked hand in hand
with God. Her little, rosy mouth seemed
made for smiles and kisses and loving
words, and the curis that clustered above
the broad, white brow were as bright as
the golden sunshine which lay in the
long, slanting rays of light upon the
green grass. With look of tender SYM
pathy upon her fair little face she said j.:
Poor man, what is the matter?n
The deep wells Of the tramp's heart
were touched as if by an angels wing.
A sob choked him so that he could not
speak.
:" Are you tired?" then the sweet voice
said.
Was he tired? All, yesl Tired of
meeting temptation and having it gain
victory after victory over him. And if a
glass of liquor were held to his lips, even
VINE IN the presence Of that sinless
cnhd and with her innocent eyes upon
hlm' he would eagerly drink it, so weak
was he-this poor trampi