Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1877-04-11
RESCUED FROM CRIME.

RESCUED FROM CRIME.
l sat in DR.. Tobie's office. He had
been reading letter when I entered,
and beyond a simple salutation nothing
was SAID until he had folded the missive
and laid it aside. His eyes were moist
as he finished the persual, and he wiped
them with his handkerchief. Then he
got up and shook me warmly by the
hand, and after few passages of friend
ly banter, he SAID to me:
''Sit down, old fellow; I've got a
story for you." And he laid his hand
upon the letter which he had been read
ing. II won't bore you. lisa simple
sketch and the coloring you can put in
for yourself"
Iseated myself and the Doctor told
me as follows:
| ''Twelve years ago was called to
the Police Court to give my testimony
concerning the result of post mortem
on the body Of man who had been
killed in a street brawl. This case
having been disposed of l took a seat
within the bar to watch the wheel of
justice reyolve upon other cases. They
came up from the prisoners dock, one
by one, the old, the middle-aged and
the young, representatives of all de-
grees of crime and degradation: and 1
wondered, as l saw them pass off to
punishment, how many had been abso-
lutely born to life of shame how
many had been led thereto by surround
ing circumstances and influences over
which they had no control and how
many might have fallen from better
estate through criminal choice. At all
events 1 could not put away the con-
viction that here was a field for mission
AIRY effort. But never mind my moral
ling. Only suffer ME to say that as 1
fred shot at what l conceived to be
misdirected missionary effort, the
thought forced itselfupon me-'What
have I done in the way of this redemp-
tion?' and I concluded that | had better
wait until had redeemed myself from
inaction before l blamed others for
misdirection of action.
Il had just passed this reproof upon
anyself, when prisoner stepped up
from the dock who particularly attrac-
ted my attention. 1t was a boy, not
more than IA years Of age, and rather
small at that. He was light Of frame,
and, 1 thought, slightly understood; but
every inch Of him was finely strung and
firmly set, and his form was beauty it.
self. His face was thin and pale, and
his features Of a clear Grecian cut. I
saw him first in profile, and as his
wavy hair, of sunny hue, struggling
into ringlets here and there, swept back
from his full brow, thought I had
never seen more tempting study.
When he turned his face toward me I
saw pair Of large blue eyes, and
found that the view thus obtained of his
features was equally interesting with
the other. His clothes were ragged,
but not dirty, and there was not dirt
upon his hands nor upon his face. This
struck me forcibly, because most Of
those who had come up from the pris-
on cell had come bleared and grimed.
HE answered to the name of Dick
Printle and was up for petit laceny; and
the officer who presented him said that
this was the third time he had been up
tor like offending. The Judge nodded
grimly, for he himself recognized the
lad as one who had before passed under
his sentence. The boy could not plead
innocence, for he had been caught in
the very act of pilfering, and he ac-
knowledged his guilt. The Judges
brow was black with judicial thunder,
but he did not deem it worth while to
vent much Of it upon SO insignificant an
object.
80! this is the third time!' he said.
The boy started and trembled, and 1
thought he tried to speak; but this aw-
full voice Of power sounded again !:
You'll come to the gallows, sir! do
you know that? You are incorrigible
Haven't you had enough of prison life
yet?'
1.-THE boys trembling ceased, and he
looked defiant. He stood erect, his
blue eyes flashed, and his finely cut
nostrils were dlstended.
by this time 1 had called to mind
when and where, on a former occasion,
/ had seen that same boy. I had been
called to his mothers death-bed three
years before. l remembered the name
I-Printle-and l remembered the curly
headed boy who had held her failing
hand. And l remembered that had
then heard the dying woman's story.
''Her husband had once been captain
of a ship, and accounted a seaman of
the very first-class ;.but rum had broken
him down, and cast him, complete
wreck, upon dark shore. She had
suffered more than she could tell.-had
sunk to the sorrowful level where 1 had
found her,-and was only two glad to
die. And, dying, she had left her boy
the inmate of den Of criminals; and,
in her obliviousness wherein only these
children of night had been her friends,
! she looked thankfully upon the keeper
of the den when he promised to be a
friend to the little boy.
II thought Of all this while the nris.