The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1879-02-25
Selert Sturr.
Kind Words Can Never Die.


Kind Words Cal, Never Die
By MINNIE NJ LOMBARD. 8s
No prophetic insight seemed necessar,
to foretell Luke Morris future, since
every body had consigned him in ad
vance 10 certain prison and a possible
gallows No one ever remembered how
little chance he had to be anything bet
Ter A dissipated father, who died in .
gambling fray before Luke's black eyes
we're opened to the light, and young
broken. hearted mother, whose only touch
was a farewell kiss on his. baby foreI4lm
4 ahen, like Rachel, aher soul was in de.
parting" The slender story Of this, treas
ured up in his childish memory, was all
that represented in his barren life the af
fection with which many another is Sc
enriched.
No one had ever, petted Luke but the
old nurse who cared for him in the frs
few years of his life; and even her en-
dearments were slternated with such fits
of violent passion that the child learned
in his babyhood, that cunning art of con
cealing his faults which afterward devel
oped in rank stubbornness and false
hood. n
Luke had never known settled home
but had gone from place to place among
kinsfolk, who, hearing of his reputation
beforehand, welcomed him with little en-
thuuiastn, and soon grew weary, openly
of his presence. The last door thrown
open to him was that OF his mothers
Oldest brother, stern, hard man, who
held himself undinchingly to his own
standard Of right and had little charity
for the faults Of others Far down il
bis heart was spot sacred to the mem
ory OF Luke's mother, the one sister
who, in years gone past, had been kind
and loving when others acted coldly TO
ward him, and which had been the means
Of much warmth and sunshine to that colo
heart OF his-cold to others, but tender
and loving to her. Could he have sect
her likeness in that Of her boy, it is pos
sible that he might. with all his faults
have crept into his old uncle's heart, and
taken his mothers vacant place; but,
with the first glance Of those flashing
defiant eyes, the swarthy complexion aud
stubborn working Of the Jaw, all of un
Gle Johns hatred OF the man who had
blghted his sisters life returned again
and he said bitterly "a regular Morri:
face! That tells the whole storyw
Luke's quick ear caught the words
spoken In an undertone, and in that mo-
ment Uncle Johns influence for good
was gone forever. Though the sunshine
fell with the same constant brightness
and she cLirp of the birds at the open
window vent on just as usual. mingiing
with the flow Of the river on its way to
the sea, no voice from the world without
or the world within could help this mar
who knew that he had, through hatred
thrown away soul that he might have
saved. 1t might yet be saved, but by
other more patient aud loving hands.
But II Uncle John did not love his
nephew be meant no less TO do his duty
by him, not seeing that love was the first
element Of that duty. Luke was well
fed and clothed and sent to school. His
good qualities, ifindeed he bad any. were
passed over silently, while every offense
no matter how small, was visited with
stern reprimand or condign punishment
Yet it vas wonderful how the boy eluded
the strict watch upon bis actions ani
plunged into all manner of malicious
mischief He had reached the age o.
fourteen and held the unenviable distinc
tiou of being the pest OF the neighbor
hood, when the incidents Of my story
occurred.
1t was a hot, sultry day in August, ,ane
the school.room Of Milton Academy wa,
over full with students. 1t was just sucl
day as comes to the best ordered
school, when it seems too hot to study
but gives the idlers a good opportuni.,
-or exercising their ingenuity in unex
pected ways of annoyance. As the af
ternoon hours wore on the teacher, ,neve
a patient man, grew tired and irritable t,
the last degree of endurance. andat las
some mysterious disturbance behind hin
threw half the students into uncontrolla
BILE laughter. Without waiting for in
vestigationp he seized poor Luke as th
offender and gave him Gaming, the lik
of which had never been known in Mil
ton. Luke grew pale with pain, for tn
masters arm was not that Of weakling
but he stood without flinching until tn
punishment was ended; then, turning d.
liberately to his, desk, he gathered n
books, slate and satchel, tossed thel
, through the open window upon th
ground, and, with an oath terrible t
come. from such young lips, walked o,
of the school room, slamming the doc
after him with force that shook tn
, very walls.
= In the blank establishment which fe
upon the school, no one noticed lit
) Jennie Ray, who was crying behind b,
i book, the veins on her transparent for
| head swelling with indignation.
. sits burning shame!'' she said
, her "dearest friend" at recess. "Pot
Luke! l do think he would like to
e good if they would let him"
il That evening, as Jennie reached Il
y river crossing on her way home she ste
ted to see Luke sitting alone on the ban
j his face swollen with weeping, his sull,
1t brows contracted, and with strang
steady stare at the tumbling waters 81
/ might have passed by unnoticed. but Il
Q look in the boys face frightened hi
.s though she did not understand it. 81
,e hesitated; stopped, and then went clos
It to him with sudden thought lightir
her face. Still he neither saw nor hea
till, at her gentle touch on his shouldt
and the sound Of his own name, he sts
a ted to his feet like hunted deer at DO
n His brow was dark, but at the sight
n that face set in its floating curls the ten
o muscles relaxed into softer expressio
g "Luke," said Jennie with her lit
n hand still on his arm, "you don't mil
v because ! startled you go, do your B
/ wanted to tell you that next Saturd
is my birthday, and am 10 have par,
ir end tea and games on the lawn; al