Wilmington daily commercial., 1875-02-13
MISCELLANEOUS.
THE DYING MANS STORY.
REV. JOHN THO. ETTERs.


have it. Now, don't stop me, my dear friend /
know what you would say-I must not excite
myself or talk much. You zee, am almost as
good doctor as you are, but feel that ! cannot
last another day, and AZ n few hours cannot make
much difference, prefer dying my own way. |
may as we'll keep my mind employed AZ not 30
sit down and listen to what no one has heard but
yourself.
Six-and- twenty years ago / was clerk in a
merchants Office l cant say liked the busi-
ness but stuck to it and got on for loved
nv masters daughter, and hoped by hard work
to one day be able to make her mine. / was an
orphan, with neither kith or kin to look after me-
but the love | bore Milly kept me quiet and in
dnstrious. 1 rose step by step in the office, and
Mr.. Bruce, the merchant, was never tired of
sounding my praise.
All went OH happily until he discovered that
loved his daughter, and then his passion knew
no boupds need not enter into the partlcu-
lars. was turned from his house, but not alone
for Mily and had been secretly married three
months BEFORE
We took quiet little lodging in the suburbs,
and went every day into the city in hopes OF
getting another situation. / had little money
that had saved, on which We lved-lived, oh !
30 happily that even at this distance it seems
heavenly dream too bright for earth. Milly was
always trustfnl that her father would relent and
| always believed should soon obtain another
appointment, but we were both deceived
lime rolled on our little capital was nearly
gone, our hopes almost exhausted but our love
boomed as fresh as ever. l tried literature, and
made few dollars but my manuscripts but too
often came back without being read. Still
struggled on and wrote several songs, which
had acertain amount of success and one int rs
hope seemed to beam upon us.
Milly-Heaven bless her-fanciedt that should
soon become famous, that the whole country
would ring with my name, and then her father
would be glad to forgive us. What might have
happened had not met with such misfortunes.
Heaven alone knows-I cannot say but in the
midst of this bright happiness my wife was taken
ILL., 1t consumption. / worked day aud
night to procure the necessary medicines aud
food for her wrote to her father, but received
no reply; went from publisher to publisher
hawking my songs about selling them almost for
anything to buy bread. Oh, how they ground
me down Men who had had successful songs
from me, now that they saw me in poverty, cut
down the prices until starvation was close upon
me-
One afternoon--I shall never forget it-I left
poor Milly in bed-she could not rise-and went
to seek for work. l called at her fathers but
was turned away from the door. l wandered
about from one place to another, but all my
efforts were fruitless. could not cent.
Heart-broken and weary, turned homeward. |
had not money to buy even u loaf of bread.
Several times l paused AZ a well-dressed man
approached me, and determined to beg, but the
words choked me, and they passed on without
noticing my distress. When they passed / WIS
ashamed at having thought of begging, ard yet
angry within myself that had not done 30.
l was standing at the corner of street,
thinking what 1 should do--for l could not go
home to Mly-my poor, hungry, sick wife,
empty-handed, when received hearty slap on
the shoulder, and turning round saw Gidden,
the music publisher.
"Well, BURDEN" he cried, lyon don't seem
happy. You look az pleasant az though you had
lost a dollar and found cent"
"Happy ~ exclaimed; " happy with wife
dying Of consumption and nd-and-starvation !"
i" Dear me that's very sad Why don't you
work 7"
"Work have sought work far and near. l
have done everything, but without success
1.-THE music trade is bad, and mistake; but
still, think something might be done. Your
songs have succeeded pretty well. Now what
time would it take you to write me four songs =
"That all depends upon what sort YOU want"
Ireplied.
"They must be bacchadalian of life.
You understand ?"
land must have them the first thing in the
morning"
"That is short time"
'lt is but ready money, you know" he re-
~ On these terms l agree"
Every well, then. Now about the price. You
know the music trade is very bad ut present. l
can't give you much,s we will say three guineas
for the lot"
"What !" exclaimed "three guineas for
four songs and one guinea in advance. " can't
give you a cent more"
.s.As he spoke he drew sovereign from his
pocket and held it invitingly between his finger
and thumb. The sight OF the money was too
tempting 30 without further demur agrsed to
write the songs.
mind have thom early.to-morrow, he said.
" II you do not bring them to me by ten l shall
send for them"
hurried away TO purchase some food for my
wife, and also to procure her some medicine. l
bought roll and ate it 30 that could tell her
tl.,t dad all I'm
for her.
Among the things 1 bought was some
brandy, the doctor having ordered Milly to drink
it. Laden with these poor things, which to me
looked heaps of riches, hurried homeward.
Poor Milly, when L reached her bedside and
showed her what had brought met me with
smile OF patient love that almost broke my heart.
She tasted little food, and drank small glass
Of weak brandy-and- water, then fell into light
Sleep
Illness at the best of times is terrible; but
when we sit alone and zee all we love fading
fast, the disease aided by want-to see the thin,
pale face 30 like death in life-to know that be-
fore long even the sad pleasure OF tending on 1t
will be lost, and that before we can give it pro-
per care-this indeed, is awful.
AS sat, watching and thinking, became des-
perate my brain seemed on fire, and my mouth
parched. Seizing the brandy bottle, poured
out large glass of spirits and drank it of.
steadied my nerves, and l sat dawn to commence
my songs
For some tlme cOulu gam no tnOuBits L Hc
dull silence of the night, broken only by the
heavy breathing Of my wife, and a low, purring
sound that ratified at her chest, palled upon me.
The dull, glmmering light of the candle that
threw a melancholy light over our wretched
room the thin, wedge-ilke face, half in shade,
that reposed ON the pillow the ghost-like hand
that lay 30 still, stretched out OH the coverlet-
all seemed to crush me. How, with such things
around me, could write of mrth drink and
jolity?
pressed my hands over my eyes, and the hot
tears forced themselves through my fingers.
grew hysterical, l felt if l could have
screamed with laughter / could not write but
the songs must be done, or should not get the
money.
In hopes of gaining more calmnesH | drank
more brandy Glass after glass of the burning
fluid poured down my throat. l felt mad.
was not tipsy but delirious. / could hear the
rattle of glasses, the merry shouts of laughter
strange tunes, such would have suited orgies
held In praise Of Bacchus, rang in my head. l
seized my pen and wrote rapidly. Some fiend
seemed whispering words to me, they were 30
full of recklessness and abandonment.
NY candle burned out, but 1 continued writing
by the gray, cold light of daybreak that came
slantng over the housetops. At last my task
WAS done, and springing up hastened to my
wife to tell her my success, and to cheer her with
the assurance that these wild songs would mako
my name. ,
I felt nv blood rushing through my veins AZ