The Findlay Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Hancock County, Ohio) 1870-1881, 1875-12-24

l Drought on Dy lnSuLuclenI uOufl>iliDeu
and disappointment. The Registrar
general doesn't give a return of thes
cases in any list that am aware of; Ju
| We see something OF them in our line o
business, never;Aal-ss
1t was just at this time that Mr.. Broad
man found out Mrs. Vincent; for thai
was the name of the lady who came tC
my shop with the gold seal. Cambridge
Terrace is not very far from the Ange
at Islington, and there, in little back
street of small, respectable houses, in
habited by junior clerks. with here aud
there lodging house, Mr.. and Mrs. Vim
cent lived.
They were rather shy at first of a
stranger, and a little proud and haIgh-
ty, perhaps. 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 a jufTy he
and Mr.. Vincent were talking about col
lege, for they had both been at the same
university. And there was even soon a
smile, too-a wan smile enough-upon
the poor invalid's sharp, thin face, with
the hollow, fara-way eyes, which looked
at you as if out of a cavern. He was
the wreck of a fine young fellow, too;
one who had been used to his hunting
and shooting, and all the country sports
which make broad-chested, sturdy limb
ed country people the envy of us poor,
thin, pale townfolks.
Mr.. Broadman came direcF to Inc
when he left them; | did not live far eff,
and he thought | might lend them a
neighbor's help.
'Davis, says he, ''that poor fellow is
dying; can see death in his eyes"
"What is he dying of?" l asked.
He looked at me steadfastly a mo-
ment, and could see a moisture in his
eyes as he said, slowly and solemnly,
"Of starvation, Davis-an actual want
of food"
"a gentleman starving i'll London, in
Islington- a baronet's son, too, Why.
it is Incredible"
mot 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 Office, if the worst comes to
worst; but the well born, who have fall
tea into destitute poverty, and who car
ry their pride with them, dive into back
alley, like some wild auimal into hole,
to die alone. Mr.. Vincent wants wine
and iellies, aud all sorts of things, if help
hasn't come too late. No, no, my friend,
he continued, putting back my hand, for
l was ready to give my money in a prop
er cause. mo, no; | have LETT them all
they want at present, Davis. Bat I'll
tell you VII : 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 forgot your kindness
to her, / can assure you. And | think
i,or husUaud woutd iihe To thank you.
too, and il would rouse him up u Dit, per-
haps." And then Mr. Broadman told
me, shortly, something of what these two
poor things had gone througt-she, low
ing and trusting him so; and 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 baronot; a proud, hard man, | am
told But the letter he wrote back was
soft enough, and melting to read. 1t
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 advance. And the parson says
to me:
-''Well, Mr.. Davis, there are many peo-
ple kept asunder only for want of some-
body to go between them, you see, and
make peace"
And l said, partly to myself: "Why
shouldn't Christianity, itself, be such
generous peacemaker as thatZ'
cay" replied Mr.. Boardman, ''if pee
pie only believe in it properly"
That very day we got the baronet's
letter. l was on my way in the after
noon to Cambridge Terrace to pay my
respects to Mrs. Vincent-and had sent
in few bottles of good old port wine
from my own wine merchant, at least as
good as could be got for money or love.
Well, when / got near the door, saw an
old gentleman walking up and down,
little disturbed, apparently, in his mind,
at finding himself in such aqueer locali-
ty, and as if looking for something or
somebody A short, rosy-faeed fellow he
was, clean-shaved as a pin, and very
neat and old-fashioned in his dress; with
that sort of air about him which marks
an English country gentleman wherever
he may be- Well, We soon got into
talk, for I'd spotted the old baronet in
moment, and he was anxious to find out
something about hiS son, as soon as he
heard knew little of the young couple.
s.And you do not think, sir. that my
that Mr.. Vincent is dangerously illI'
said the old baronet; and there was
sob in his voice as he spoke, and his
hand trembled as he laid it upon mine.
s.Here is the house, | said, land you
will be able to Judge for yourself"
We went in. At least the baronet
went into the room, trembling in every
limb with the excitement of seeing his
son. But when be set bis eyes on hiIn,
the poor old man was so startled that lie
could scarcely speak. His son saw him
and tried to rise, but fell back feeble in
his chair. ''Dear father, be muunured,
stretching out a thin, trembling hand,
forgive"
But the father was on his knees by the
chair in a moment, clasping his sons
head in his arms, and fondling him a. he
had done when the man was a baby.
.sWhat have 1 to forgive. You must
forgive me for being so hard, my dear
boy. and get better soon, Wilfred, Iny
son, my SOM"
Z 49,.