Carson daily appeal. [volume] (Carson City, Nev.) 1873-1877, 1876-04-20
CORRESPONDING OFTHEAPPEAI.

those blue and buff and pink trips
were slipping thro' his head. know
! what he felt and what he meant-and
knowing it and feeling it and having a
similar experience myself, having a
| mine. COR the miserable wreck and
| remnant of what once was feeble but
virtuous intellect), also having the
lingering debris of q conscience, de-
sire. modesily and unobtrusively, yet
firmly and with feeling of courage
born of desperation, to relieve my
| mind of its superintendent pressure.
- is well known, am going to Wash
ington II is TO reflection upon our
able and manly representatives there
assembled that l am going TO that
abode Of dignity and trusting place of
Pos.-traders. But, as | have intimated.
have a conscience. (rhe scoffer will
laugh. the mocker Will whisper of the
obsolete history of by-gone primaries,
butt l have a conscience and l can
prove it. "Ecce signum." am going
to Washington to be investigated. In
tho earlier and purer days of the Re
public,
Ere sinful stain or sorrows blight
Had stresked my hair with grey
A man might steal and steal like odors
DER a bank of violets,-might steal
anything in fact, but the filching of
good name was not, as now. a leGiti
mate business. There We're quick
conseq uences entailed upon such lar
cenieS-but those were the days of
stage coaches when prudent people
hesitated before they wafered letters
at twenty-five cents apiece, postage.
and patent insides We're unknown.
In ancient days of fraud and force
They hung their rogues upon cross
In latter days II IS IN vogue
To hang tile cross Upon the rogue.
4 have no immediate reference to Mr..
simonion. Of the Bulletin Press ASS
Perhaps I have already emitted
enough Of 4 preface. Bus one always
likes to toy with his fate before facing it.
| have been stealing something.
Life is burden TO me. Some blunt
ness OF moral vision blinds HE to the
specific circumstances of my sin, but
1 am burdened with the oppressive
weight of q guilty conscience. l am
oppressed with a sense of perverted
inwardness. If l have not stolen any
thing / feel within my guilty soul so
strong an inclination TO steal some.
thing that 1 flee, like guilty thing
upon a fearful summons to where
Clymer is. l feel that he can relieve
my tired and dilapidated soul. He
can purify me. If 1 may not antici
pate that delightful result, if he can
not array me in the spotiess robes OF
unlarcenous regeneration, at all events
he can tell me what it is 1 want to steal.
He can, and doubtless will, favor me
with diagnosis Of my case. despair
of a certificate of moral worth; anti
cipate the penitentiary, but my victim
will be warned in time.
cat this point the cheerful tourist
from Massachusetts, leans over me
with fond and beaming innocence of
intrusion, and says "Wall, writin' for
the press, Amt yee My son, he's re-
porter. What paper air We writin' for?''
(all this with a loud, Cape Cod voice,
emitted with a laudable desire not
only to pump me, but attract the at
TENT on Of the listening invalids whose
frugal meal Of cold hard boiled eggs
and condensed milk has just been de
vOured.) "1'm writing to my Wife,"
says 1 with loud voice; and Josiah
Bounderby, being laughed at by the
frugal consumptives, subsidies with a
sickly attempt at laughter, and is 81
lent and almost thoughtful. VIII he
take hint of better manners back to
Barnstablee)
Speaking of conscience, l still feel
the refreshing influences of the jubilee
singers. / found myself repeating, as
1 turned into my berth in the sleeping
car, last night
"I'm a methodist brci and a meth
odist born,
Coming for to carry me home.
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home"
And then, as walked up, refreshed yet |
not quite exempt from sense of So
licitude for your unregenerate soul,
Mr.. Editor, I found myself repeating