The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1875-06-25

II was Just at this time that Mr..
Broadman found out Mrs. Vincent--for
that was the name of the young lady
who came to my shop with the gold
seal, Cambridge Terrace is not very far
from the Angel at Islington, 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 naughty
perhaps. People who have seen better
days, and are down upon their back, are
apt to be 80. But the parson with
CHEEKY voice, soon made it all right;
and in iify, he and Mr.. Vincent wers
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, faraway
eyes, which looked at you as if out of a
cavern. He was wreck of fine fell
low, too; of one who had been used to
hunting and shooting, and all the fine
country sports which make broad-chest-
ed, strong-limbed, country people the
envy of us poor, thin, pale townfolks.
Mr.. Broadman came direct to me
when he left them. 1 did not live far
off, and he thonght that 1 might lend
them a neighbor' help. "Davis," said
he; "that poor fellow is dying; 1 can
see death in his eyes"
''What is he dying Off" replied.
He looked at me steadfastly moment
and 1 could see a moisture in his eye, as
he said, slowly and solemnly: "Of starv-
alton, Davis-of actual want of food"
ga gentleman starving, in London,
a baronet's son, tool Why its incredi-
BILE.
mot at all" said Mr.. Broadman,
"these are the very people who 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
the worst; but the well-born, who have
fallen into destitute poverty, and who
carry their pride with them, and dive
into some back alley like somewild an
imal into hole, to die alone. Mr.. Vim
cent wants wine and jellies and all sorts
of good things, if help hasn't come too
late. No, my FRIEND" he continued,
putting back my hand, for 1 was ready
to give my money in a proper cause.
''No, no; 1 have left them all they want !
al 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 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 thorugh
she loving, and trusting him so; and
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 baronet, a proud, hard man, I'm
told. But the letter wrote back was
soft enough, and 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: "Wel, Mr.. Davis, he said, "there
are many people kept asunder, only for
want of somebody to go between them,
You see, and make peace.
And 1 said, partly to myself: "Why |
shouldn't Christianity itself be such a
general peacemaker as thatl"
"Ay," replied Mr.. Broadman, 'if peo-
pie only believed in it properly"
That very day we got 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 sent
in few bottles of good old port wine
from my own wine merchant-at least
as good as can be got for money or love.
Well, when / got near the door, saw
an old gentleman walking up and down,
a little disturbed, apparently, in the
mind at finding himself in such queer
locality, and as if looking for something
or somebody. A short, rosy-faced per-
son he was, clean shaved as a pin, and
very neat and old fashioned in his dress;
and with q sort of air about him which
marks an English country gentleman
wherever he may be. Well, we soon
got into talk, for had spotted the bar
onet in moment, and he was anxious
to find out something about his son as
soon as he heard that L knew little
about the young couple.
Sand you do not think, sir, that my
that MIR. Vincent is dangerously ill2"
said The old baronet; and there was a
sob in his voice as he spoke, and his
hand trembled as he laid it upon mine.
"Here is the house, sir, 1 said, "and
you will be able to judge for yourself.
We wen in. At least the baronet
went into the room, trembling in every
limb with the excitement of seeing his
son. But when he set eyes on him the
poor old man was so startled that he
could hardly speak. His son saw him,
and tried To rise but fell hack feahl.y