Wheeling register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1878-1935, 1878-12-07
was Phillip? Where was little Waldo

NJ lleT art. NUW BIC Was Wioc OhouSil
to be humble. These last years had
stolen the roses from her face and the
laugh from her eyes, but they had
brought back the earnest heart of hel
childhood. And at sunset, when she
could paint no more. she went out into
the Cathedral square and met Phillip
and they walked and talked together in
the twilight. He, too, was alone. His
household was scattered-some dead,
some gone abroad. And thus each was
the nearest kin to the other, though
they were only cousins. But some Of
the old people, those who have time to
sit as spectators at the drama of life,
said there was more in it than that.
Were they right? Well, it does not mat
ter, for Philip died.
Sybil did not go to his funeral; she had
drawing lessons to give, which could not
be deferred. But the evening before
young lady went to his lodgings, and
was shown into the room where the
dead man lay. She stayed there quite
an hour. The landlady had seen her
before, during her lodger's illness, but
she did not know her name. Next morn
ing they found pencilparings on the car
pet, as ii the visitor had been writing
or drawing beside the coffin. She had
quilted the house without being seen by
any Que.
When Sybil had given her lessons on
the funeral day she went home and put
on her coarse new mourning and sat
down by the window, for she need no
more goto the Cathedral square. There
was fresh picture over her mantel-
shelf, a penciled portrait in cheap
wooden frame. 1t was all which re-
NAMED of her cousin Philip.
8She thought of him as she sat alone in
the moonlight, but she thought also OF
another. That was Waldemar bennett.
She and Philip had spoken Of him in
their very last OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES
they had heard tidings of him-and,
alas! bad news travels quickest. Cecily
had been dead five or six years, and
now her boy-Sybil's First baby"--was
i'll prison, II convicted felon. There was no
doubt about his guilt, he owned it him
self; all he had said in excuse was: 'No-
body ever cared for me"
Oh, how lonely and still was SYPHILIS
chamber. How desolate and heartless
the world which lay beyond. No new
friends, however good and true, would
be able to share the memories OF the
past. The only being linked with it
was shut in a prison cell, signing: "No,
body ever cared for me-" Had Sybil
recognized him in the studio that morn
ing perhaps he had never needed to say
those words. She thought OF that now.
She bitterly repented it, though it
scarcely seemed sin. But her repent
ance could not bring him to her, to share
and soothe her sorrow; her repentance
could not etface the past nor give back
innocence to young Waldemar Den
nett.
But | could not guess things would
happen thus" she moaned, in bitter
self-excuse. But voice within her an
swered, Still, you could have done
right, set aside your selfishness and
thought OF others. That ever brings
Gods blessing.
And then Sybil went to her lowly
couch, and her pillow was wet with bit
ter tears for Philip and bitter tears for
poor Waldemar-the lad she had only
seen twice-her first baby" for whom
nobody had cared"
But there is one who cares for all /;
only poor children whom nobody cares
for" are taught much about him. He
looked down on the weeping Sybil and
on Waldemar bennett tossing on his
prison pallet. lie knew all about their
future and that comfort would come to
each in his good time and way. And
amid all her anguish Sybil fell into a
sweet sleep, and that night Waldemar
dreamed of his mother and awoke with
"a softened heart.
And then ten years went by, and
there came what folks called "a regular
old-iashioned Christmas" when snow
was thick, and holly was cheap, and
Goals were dear, aud deaths from star
vation" were very abundant.
\ poor ragged man crept along the
dreary streets. He was quite young
man, with large dark eyes and "a CHASTITY
face. lie could have told sad story,
and his moral would have been, cts
hard to 90 right after once turning
wrong" Waldemar bennett had PROV
he had been satisfied with very humble
work, but even then the felon's stain
was on him. Still, through all adversely
he struggled on honestly, for God had
visited him in his captivity and he new
or again fell into crime. Yet its shadow
was always over him, and when ILL
health came, and then severe sickness,
he hal no friend to aid and tend him.
And so at last, homeless and penniless,
he crept along the highway seeking a
quiet corner wherein to die.
He found one--it was the portico OF
an old-iashioncd house lying beyond a
small court yard in very lonely street.
He crouched there long while; at last
he fell asleep, and dreamed he was i'll
beautiful hall filled with elegant COM
pany, who seemed rejuiced to welcome
him, though he was still in his rags.
But sharp voice and rough hand
reused him, and the footman OF the
great house babe him "move away"
Waldemar Dennet moved away with
out murmur. Presently he found he
could walk no more, and be sank down
on another step. This was in street
filled with humble busting shops, and
close beside him was a toy warehouse
making its gay Christmas display. Wal
demar watched the children GINNING in
and out and he hoped they would have
merry time. He should wantnothing
this Christmas season, he knew that.
"Only wish was not quite alone!
he murmured, and then mist came
over him.
When it passed awaw he thought thai
surely his beautiful dream had come
true. for an aroma OF sweetness sur
rounded him, and his cheek rested on
soft velvet mantle, and beautiful lac,
bent kindly over him. But he saw ht
was still in the rugged street, and tn.
little children gathered round Will
their TOYS in their hands.
THE poor man cannot speak, sai'
the lady; will somebody 60 for assis
tance?" and again she bent down til
the sable trimming OF her cloak trailet
in the snow. The poor warm face stu
rested on her shoulder. "How ilk'
Philip in his coffin" thought tn,
| lady.