Connecticut western news., 1877-05-25
THE DARK HOUR.
"I cant stand it any longer, Jane; I'll go out, and perhaps something will turn up for us."

for you if you had married John Ire main,' h. said bitterly.
 "Don't say that, Robert; I've never regretted my choice"
 Mot even when there is not loaf of bread in the house for you and the children?'
 ''Not even now, Robert. Don't be discouraged. God has not forsaken us. Perhaps this Christmas Eve the tide will turn; better days may dawn upon us tomorrow"
 ingly: yc,, . ,.o ", . 70 ,o,,os,,, +,,,, ,,no Day after day have been in search of places, only to receive the same answer everywhere"
 Just then little Jimmy, who had been asleep, woke up.
 "Mother," he pleaded, "won't you give me a piece of breadP am so hungry.'
 "There is no bread, Jimmy, my darl- ing!" said the mother with an aching heart.
 "When will there be some? ?" asked the little child piteously.
 Tears came into tho mothers eyes. She knew not what to do.
 "Jimmy, Ill bring you some bread, !" said the father, hoarsely.
 And he seized his hat and went to the door. His wife, alarmed, laid her hand upon his sleeve. She saw the look in his eyes; she feared to what step des- peration might lead him.
 Remember, Robert," she said, sol emnly. "It is hard to starve; but there are things that are worse."
 He shook off her hand, but not rough ly, and, without word passed out.
 Out in the cold streets! That would be their only home next. For a brief time longer he had the shelter of a cheerless room in cold lodging house, but the rent would become due at the end of the month, and he had nothing to meet it.
 Robert Brice was mechanic, compe- tent and skillful. Three years since, he lived in country village where his ex- penses were moderate, and he found no difficulty in meeting them. But in an evil hour he grew tired of his village home, and removed to the city. Here he vainly hoped to do better. For awhile he met with very good success :; but he found the lodging-house in which he had to live poor substitute for the neat coatage he had occupied ill the country. He saw his mistake, but was too proud to go back, although it was his wife's desire to do so.
 But the time of great depression came, and with it a suspension of business en- terprise. Work ceased for Robert Brice and many others. If he had been in his old home, he could have turned his hand to something else, and, at the worst, could have borrowed from his neighbors till better times.
 So day by day he went out to seek work, only to return dissapponted. If he had been alone he would have got on come to the cheerless room and pale wife and hungry children, with no re- lief to offer them.
 When on that Christmas Eve Robert Brice went into the streets he hardly knew how he was going to redeem the promise he had made little Jimmy. He was absolutely penniless, and had been so for three days. There was nothing that he was likely to find to do that night.
 II will pawn my coat" he. said. "I cannot see my wife and children starve." "
 It was a well-worn coat, and that winter night he needed something more to keep him warm. Weakened by en- forced fasting, he was more sensitive to the cold, and shivered as he walked along the pavement.
 "Yes," he said, "my coat must go. know not how shall get along without it; but l cannot see my children starve before my eyes,.
 He was not in general an envious man; but when he saw the sleek, we'll fed citizens, buttoned up to the throat in warm overcoats, come out of brilli- antly lighted shops, provided with pres cnts for happy children at home, while his were starving, he suffered some bit ter thoughts upon the inequality of For tunes gifts to come to his mind. Why should they be so happy, while he was so miserable?
 There was time, he remembered it well, when he, too, suffered not the Christmas Eve to pass without buying some little gifts for Jimmy and Agnes. How little he dreamed that they should ever want bread!
 There was one man shorter than him. self, warmly clad, who passed him with his hand thrust deep in the pockets of his overcoat. There was a pleasant smile upon his face. He was doubtless, thinking of happy circle at home. Robert knew him to be rich cabinet maker and upholsterer, whose ample warehouse he often passed. He had ap- piled to this man only two days before for employment, and had been refused. It was, perhaps, the thought of the wide difference between them, so far as out ward circumstances were, that led Rob- erst to follow him.
 After while the tradesman, MT. Grimes, drew his handkerchief from his pocket. As he did so, he did not per ceive that his pocket-book came out with it, and fell on the pavement. He did not perceive it; but Robert did. His heart leaped into his mouth, and sud- den thought entered his mind. He bent quickly down and picked up the pocket | book. He raised his eyes to see if the Mir. Grimes went on, unleeding his loss
 "This will buy bread for my wife and children," thought Robert, instantly. A vision of the comfort which the money would bring that cheerless room lighted up his heart for an instant, but then-for he was not dishonest-then came another thought. The money was not his, much as he wanted it. | "But I cannot see my wife and chil- dren starve," he thought again. eff ii is wrong to keep the money God will pardon the offense. He will understand my motiye."
 All this was sophistry, and he knew it. In moment he felt it to be so There was something, worse than star vation. It was his wife who said this just before he came out. Could he meet her gaze when he returned with food so obtained?
 "I've lived honest so far, ," he thought | CT won't tl1rn thiaf now '
 It was with an effort he came to this decision, for all the while it was before his eyes that vision of cheerless home and he could hear Jimmy vainly asking for food. It was with an effort that he steped forward and placed one hand or the tradesman's shoulder, and extended the hand that held the nocket-hoOk