The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1878-06-06


\ flower of flowers. the peony
Marion Douglas, in Sunday .i.t1ernoon.
THE ADVENTURES OF AN ORGAN.
GRINDER.
WHILE living in California, became
acquainted with the characters of this
sketch. The passages in their lives
which are bound together by acts of
sympathy and kindheartedness, l lay
before my readers; other passages not
SO wholesome are lost in the great
whirlpool of time, which, though ii
swallows up many good hopes, kindly
draws down into oblivion much OF
wretchedness, prohigacy and crime.
Jack, when knew him, was sort OF
fragment of life himself, having had
both of his hands shot away at the Bat
tie of Thibackanville, La, in our late
war; and having been taken up by cir
cumstanccs which we will not now par
ticularize, after he left the City Hospital
in New Orleans, he had drifted along
by one wave and another, until he land
ed in San Francisco, Cal, homeless,
penniless, hungry and forlorn. He
wandered on, up one street and down
another, and on, and on, sad and mis-
cradle and respondent, getting never a
word nor even a kind look, until he be-
came utterly hopeless. The pension to
which he was justly entitled by reason
of his wounds received in the United
States service, was not awarded him
on account of some informally in his
enlistment as soldier Che was only a
ftat In lnft a
any support whatever.
One day, in the midst of his loncli-
ness, the thought came TO him, "I'll
kill myself But how? He had
neither rope, nor firearms nor knife;
if he had, he could pawn them for
bread if he had money he would buy
food rather than poison. There was
the water! The thought flashed through
his tired brain, making him dizzy for
the moment; but he turned and walked
YEARLY toward the wharf, reasoning
weakly that God could not blame him
greatly; he had tried this life and
found it failure; his parents were
dead. and he had long since forfeited
all claims to friendship and kinship.
Other people had homes, and friends to
hands, too. and here he had these make
believe wooden ones, that some charit-
able persons in New Orleans had pur-
chased for him. He sat down on 4 pile
Of lumber, and wondered confusedly
why folks were not made like some of
the lower orders of animal life, so that
when any of their limbs were torn
away by violence, others grew in their
places.
In the years Immediately following
the close of the war, he had found no
lack of sympathy; now it was an old
story; a crippled soldier was no rarity.
i" How do we know you lost your hands
that wayp" he had been asked only the
day before, when lie had timorously
begged for something to eat: "Why
don't you 60 to some Government in
stitution, where you will be cared for?''
He knew there were such places where
Il grateful country cared for her help
less sons who had sacrificed all but life
on her altar; there was one in Maine
where he was born, but how was he to
get there? and when there, how would
he get the influence of some Member
of Congress from that State, to try to
induce the Government to recognize
his claim?
This world is played out for me, -
he still sOlilOquized; he would try an.
other; and starting to walk along to q
place which seemed to be deserted, a
sweet voice singing attracted him. He
looked listlessly around. 1t was . lit.
tie boy with tambourine, with which
he kept time while he sang:
God with earthly ills entwineth
Hope and comfort from above;
Everywhere HIS mercy shineth.
Jack listened and sighed drearily.
Even this child has a way of earning
his Bread he said aloud. "God has
given him voice to sing. He has given
me nothing!'
"What do you say?'' asked the child
Ibid you speak to meP'
Jack shook his head sadly.
"Give me Bit" said the little fel
low, holding out his tambourine.
Il have no bit, child; l have nothing
nothing;" Jack answered piteously.
The little boy sang again, "Hopt
and comfort, hope and comfort from
above" with voice like a bird; and
he trilled an impromptu refrain, "hope
hope, hope," which sounded like 9
chirp.
"Hope for whatp'' asked Jack
there's nothing to do, nothing to live
for and he looked again toward thu
bay which glowcd in the still, noonda,
sun like molten silver.
"Could you carry Pedro's organP'
said the boy, suddenly taking in tn,
situation at q glance. :" Pedro brok,
his leg, yesterday; the wheels run owe
it; he can't walk. I've sung, an,
sung, all day, and shooken my tam
BOURNE; but folks don't mind M
much, and don't get much moneys
DO you think you can carry the organ
too heavy for me to carry.''
"Yes," replied Jack, iumpinp nm
~ am strong enough. as far as M,
body goes, to carry anything:''
"COme, them" cried his little friend
piping the refrain again, and dancin,
on ahead. Jack followed mechanical
ly,swondering now II he had indee,
taken the fatal leap from the wharf
and this small parsonage trudg
ing on before him was an inn
Ut an angel leading him on
some unknown region, or whethe
ne was still on the earth. Tn
place to which he was led was, cd
enough. 1t was small room ina di
laPidated building, at the end of Q mis-
era6le a1ley leading from one Of tn
back streets of the town.. On q repul
slve looking pile of rags and straw, la,
'he victim OF yesterday accident.
see! Pedro; here's some one to car
~ the organ; he's nice man, I know