The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1876-12-14

week. He had kind word for each,
and an inquiry about every mans family
or concerns and then he turned to his
desk. But the men did not go.
"What are you waiting for, my
friends9 Can / assist you in any man
ner 2" asked the old merchant.
"If you please, sir" said the fore
most OF the party, "we would like to
leave our money in your hands. Eh 7"
And the speaker turned toward his
companions, who uttered hcarse MUIR
muir of assent.
"Leave your money in my hands 2"
said the merchant.
"Just so, sir, was the reply. "We
hear tell how times are hard with Worth
ington Brothers, and the house in diff
culties. Now we don't want our money
as yet, Mr.. Worthington. Eli! Do
you?"
And he looked toward those in the
rear. Another growl of assent replied.
Cali which" the spokesman added,
"goes to show, sir, that we are not in
want. Keep the money, Mr.. Worthing-
ton"
The merchant gazed, with deep emo
ton, at the rough, honest faces.
"Thanbs, thanks, my kind friends!"
he said. "This proof of your friend
ship touches me deeply-but cannot
accept your offer. Such small sum,
besides. would be of little service. No,
no keep it, and may God bless you and
yours!"
The employees retired on this, not dar-
| ing, it seemed, to intrude further on the
head of the house.
"F'ather in Heaven, I thank Thee u
murmused the merchant, and, turning
away, he picked up the evening paper
to hide his emotion. AS his eyes fell
upon it, paragraph attracted his atten-
ton. It announced the failure Of the
bank IN which the savings of his old
bookkeeper had been deposited. d
With sigh he handed it to Joe OAR
ling and said
ST deeply regret this, my old friend.
MY ruin was enough"
Old Joe read the announcement with
q sinking heart, and echoed the sigh of
his old friend.
"The Lords will be done, sirl" he
said, "you ought to have all-but I am
now penniless. Your trouble is greater
than mine. Any letters, sir, by to-night's
MALE Any resources or important in
teligence?"
"No resources, Joe, and bad news
almost worse than oil.
"Worse, sir?"
eyes, yes. You remember my son
Charley Of course you remember him.
You know he went about two years since
to live with Van Zandt & Co., at Ant.
werp?"
eyes, sir. What of him9 Don't tell
me-he is not dead, sir?"
"No-that pang is spared me, but /
have had very bad news of Charley, my
old friend. wrote recently, announc-
ing our situation, and recommending
his return, and Messrs. Van Zandt &
Go. replied that he left them nearly a
year ago."
cleft them?''
eyes, yes. He had fallen into evil
courses and they reprimanded him
when he went off, no one knew whittier.
Letters were written to me by the house,
but they must have miscarried. Moth
ing has since been heard of Charley.
fear he has taken to more evil ways still.
He may be dead, indeed! Unhappy
that am ! All connected with me seem
to turn out badly!"
The merchant uttered a groan. Old
Joe looked at him with deep commisera-
ton.
CT am more unfortunate than you are,
Mr.. Worthington," he said, in low
tone, ST had son--a noble boyle is
dead, sir You knew my Edmund /!
He was 80 handsome, so spirited, so
bold; and he was lost at sea He was on
a whaler-the ship foundered, and the
crew were lost. My poor Edmund |!
We are truly unfortunate fathers, sir p
There the conversation ended, and the
merchant and book-keeper separated.
Through the following week untiring
efforts were made to collect the re
sources of Worthington Brothers. But
slight success crowned the merchant s
efforts to rescue the house. Friends of
past years seemed to have grown cold,
and regretted their inability to render
assistance; and it was only by great sac
rifces that the house succeeded in MAX
ing all its payments up to Christmas
day. In this, however, the firm sue
ceeded, and as Mr.. Worthington locked
his safe, and put on his hat, he drew a
long breath Of relief. Then, taking his
old book-keeper's arm, he went home
| with thankful heart, and, as they sep
arated at the corner, he murmured
!" Let us keep good heart yet, old
| friend"
II.
christmas morning, and the snow was
falling and the wind whirling it around
like mad. A thousand COLLINS seemed
laughing and turning somersaults and
hailing each other as they sported round
the gables and whistled through the key
holes and chimneys, wild with mirth at
the coming of Christmas, and old Joe
-Darling's small house, in a remote street
| OF the great citv uooynod ocoooiol1x1 how