The Osceola times., 1880-09-04

a garret, and walked the streets day ant
night, seeking work. He begged for il
but il was really not to be had. He wa,
astonished TO see how soon his face be.
came uhwelcome; he was astonished and
hurt to see how quickly the ancient in.
terest which people had had in him
iaded out and disappeared. Still, he
must get work; so he swallowed his
chargin and toiled on in search of it,
At last he got a job Of CARRYING bricks
up ladder il a hod, and was grateful
man in consequence, but after that no.
body knew him or cared anything about
him. lie was not able to keep up his
dues in the various moral organizations
TO which he belonged. and had to en-
dure the sharp pain of seeing himself
brought under the disgrace of suspen-
sion.
But the faster Edward died out of
public knowledge and interest, the faster
George rose in them He was found
ragged and drunk, in the gutter, one
morning. A member OF the Ladies'
Temperance Refuge lished him out, took
hlm IN hand, got up a subscription for
him, kept him sober whole week, then
got a situation for him. An account of
1t was published.
General attention was thus drawn to
the poor fellow, and great many peo-
pie came forward and helped him to-
ward reform with their countenance and
encouragement. He did not drink a
drop for two months, and meantime was
the pet of the good. Then he fell-in
har
and lamentation. But the noble sister
hood rescued him again. They cleaned
him up, they fed him, they listened TO
the mournful music of his repentances,
they got him his situation again. An
account of this also was published, and
the town was drowned in happy tears
over the restoration of the poor beset
and struggling victim of the fatal bowl.
A grand temperance revival was got up,
and after some rousing speeches had
been made the Chairman said, impress
siycly:
1--WE are now about to call for signers,
and | think there is a spectacle in store
for you which not many in this house
will be able to view with dry eyes"
There was an eloquent pause, and
then George Benton, escorted by red
sashed detachment of the Ladies of the
Refuge, stepped forward upon the plat
form and signed the pledge. The air
was rent with applause, and everybody
cried for Joy. Everybody wrung the
hand of the new convert when the
meeting was over, his salary was en-
larged next day, he was the talk of the
town and its hero. An account of it was
published.
George Benton fell, regularly, every
three months, but was faithfully rescued
and wrought with every time, and good
situations found for HIM. Finally, he
was taken around the country lecturing
as reformed drunkard, and had great
houses and did an immense amount of
good.
He was SO popular at home and so
trusted-during his sober intervals-that
he was enabled to use the name of
principal citizen and get a large sum of
money at the bank. A mighty pressure
was brought to bear to save him from
the consequences of his forgery, and it
was partially sucCessful-he was "sent
up" for only two years When, at the
end Of year the tired efforts of the be-
nevolent were crowned with success,
and he emerged from the penltentiary
with pardon in his pocket, the Prison
er's Friend Society met him at the door
with a situation and n comfortable salary
and all the other benevolent people
came forward and gave him advice, en-
couragement and help.
Edward Mills had once applied to the
Prisoners Friend Society for situation,
when in dire need, but the question,
Have you been a prisoner? made brief
work of his case
While all these things were going on,
Edward Mills had been quietly making
head against adversely. He was still
poor, but was in receipt of a steady and
sufficient salary, as the respected and
trusted cashier of bank.
George Benton never came near him,
and was never heard TO inquire about
him. George got to indulging in long
absences from town. there were i'll re-
ports about him, but nothing definite.
One winters night, some masked burg
lars forced their way into the bank, and
found Edward Mllls there alone. They
commanded him to reveal the "combina-
ton" so that they could get into the
safe. He refused. They threatened his
life. lie said his employers trusted
him, and he could not be traitor to that
trust. He could die, if he must, but
while he lived he would be faithful he
would not yield up the combination"
The burglars killed him.
The detectives hunted down the Grim.
inals, the chief one proved to be George
Benton. a wide sympathy was felt for
the widow and orphans of the dead man,
and all the newspapers in the land beg
ged that all the banks in the land would
testify their appreciation of the fidelity
and heroism of the murdered cashier by
coming forward with a generous contrl-
button of money in aid of his family,
now bereft Of support. The result was
a mass of solid cash amounting to up
ward of five hundred dollars-an aver
age of nearly three-eighths of a cent for
each bank in the Union. The cashiers
own bank testified its gratitude by en-
deavoring to show (but humiliatingly
failed in iD that the peerless servants
accounts were not square, and that he
himself had knocked his brains out
with bludgeon to escape detection and
punishment.
George Benton was arraigned for trial.
Then everybody seemed to forget the
widow and orphans in their solicitude for
poor George. Everything that money
and influence could do was done to save
hlm, but it all failed; he was sentenced
to death. StraIghtway the Governor
was besieged with petitions for commu-
tation of pardon; they were brought by
fearful young girls, by sorrowful old
maids, by deputations Of pathetic wild
ows, by shoels of impressive orphans.
But no; the Governor--for once-would