Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1880-08-11


take them to himself rather than allow this
curse to light upon them |"
The bell clangs sharply, and there is the
sound of feet outside, and she hastily re-
spends TO the summons to find her worst
fears realized. A little procession files into
the hall, bearing upon rudely constructed
litter the inanimate form of her husband.
"lt is bad business, madam" answers
one of the men in reply to her Mortified in
quires, but the gentleman had been drink
ing high he was not at all responsible
there was trouble over the gaming.tabe, and
this is the end of it,"
"This is the end of It'll" murmurs the
wife when, after physicians have been sum
moned and every remedy tried, she sits alone
by the dying man, watching him breathe
out the last hour Of his life. "My husband
is dying, and my heart is as cold as a stone.
God help me When the doctor said, There
is no hope the thought throbbed wildly
through my brain, Now can save my
boys"
Again the surface of the mirror darkened,
and Hugh Martin gazed into filthy room,
where upon a squalid bed a sufferer lies
tossing.
"Doctor," the man gasps piteously, "did
you say there was no hope, NO HOPE Prom
Use me, can't you, that I'll live till morning
anyhow It's hard thing TO go out into
the dark when you don't know where you're
going. And you won't forget, doctor, what
| told you about my Susan ? She was
good wife to me, Susan was. We would
have been very happy together il it hadn't
been for the drink. | oughtnt to have left
her and the little one; but / have been
through everything since then. You'll tell
her, won't you, that I've got the baby's pic
ture and the little curl she sent me Z Tell
her, too, please, that asked you to put them
in the coffin with me. The Testament she
gave me, that's gone. You see, / was hard
up for rum one day, and it went like all the
rest. Doctor, cant you say word to COM
fort me ? I'm wild with fear. Isn't there
something somewhere about a poor fellow
who had devil in him coming to the Lord,
and the Lord casting it out ? I've had a
devil in me this many year but suppose
the difference was, didn't come, and now
it's too late, too late DO you hear those
fellows cursing and yelling down stairs,
doctor ? Those are awful hymns to have
around ones dying bed. Obi if Susan
was only here to hold my hand"
The mirror darkened suddenly, and when
he looked again it was to see young man
OiCcBihB ottdllhlly lulOuSu tllt LWlllBul
tapping cautiously at the door of a country
home. 1t is opened instantly by gray
haired man bowed more under the weight Of
suffering than by years.
"Is mother alive yet ?" asks the young
man, in quick, excited whisper.
"Just alive" answers the old man, sol
emnly. 40, my son, my son why have
you delayed your coming? Is it not enough
that you have broken her heart, that you
should embitter her last moments by your
cruel neglect ?"
"Spare me your reproaches," the youth
replies, bitterly. at is at the peril Of my
life that come at all. The police are after
me. / was mad with drink; | got into a
difficulty with comrade; struck him with
my knife; did not mean TO kill him, but
he's dead, and | suppose | shall swing for
it. There, you have the whole story. Let
me go to my mother. I'm thankful she is
dying; now she need not know"
Together they enter darkened room, and
the young man casts himself upon his knees
beside the bed. Mother" he sobs, al have
murdered you. Your blood is upon my
soul. Speak, | pray you, one word to me,
and tell me you forgive me-"
"ls that my sons voice ?" the dying wo-
man murmurs family. go husband raise
me, that ! may look upon my boy once more
before die"
The gray-hared man lifts her carefully.
As the light flashes upon it whose face is it
that he sees ? Is that worn, haggard, dying
face Elizabeth's? And the boy-is that
guilt-hardened young reprobate bright,
merry-hearted little Hugh ? Who, then, is
that grief-stricken father?
With wild cry of anguish Hugh Martin
casts himself upon the ground. Away
with thy magic glass;" he shrieks; " | will
see no more. | will not be tormented be-
fore my time"
Hugh, Hughl' 1t is Elizabeth's soft
voice that sounds in his ear. care you
asleep or dead ? have been trying vainly
for the last half-hour to awaken you. Green,
the distiller, has called for your answer
about the grain. What shall tell him 2"
"Tell him no !" Numbered Hugh, spring
ing to his feet Have been sleeping Is
it all dream2 Then shall never dare to
sleep again. Here, Elizabeth, take this note
wrote to the dlstiller; tear it into ten
thousand fragments and scatter it to the
winds. And il become the instrument of
dealing death and destruction to my fellow
men, then will deserve to suffer throughout
eternity the torments of the lost have ex-
perienced this afternoon. National Tenn
perdnce Adrocdte.