The Portland daily press., 1881-10-28


Weary and disheartened we are at last con-
tent to lay ourselves down in some misera-
BILE swamp by the roadside to die.
Now John Hamilton was going through |
the first stages of the process indicated
above. He had cast off the unpleasant past |
and was living in delicious future. Pleas
ant thoughtswere floating through his mind. |
The most peculiar thing about his fancios
was that they all had something to do with |
a certain young lady, who lived in Enfield. |
We have good reason to suppose that young |
Hamilton was minded to ask the young lady |
who was reputed to be very pretty and as
sensible as she was pretty, to become his |
companion for life, and, furthermore, it was
for that very purpose that he had dressed
himself with such care that Saturday night.
He must have anticipated a favorable an
swer to his asking, for he whistled merry
tune as he went down the road with long
strides, into the soft June twilight to meet
his fate,-not, as he SO finely expected, the
most desirable of all fates, pronounced by
the lips of the best and fairest maid in En-
field. That cannot be; for, unseen and un
suspected, very fierce lion lies in wait by
the wayside for the merry traveller, who,
though neither weak nor cowardly, is no
Samson, to rend the wild beast, alone and
unarmed.
at the foot of long hill, he meets one of
his neighbours returning from the village.
The man gives him cheerful "Good even
ing, John," and losses from his wagon let
ter, which the other dextrously catches and
is about to put into his pocket, to be read
when he had less important business on
hand; but something peculiar about the let
ter attracted his attention. He can tell by
the postmark that it is from the city where
his brother lives, but it is not so easy to de-
eide whether the direction is in Williams
handwriting or not. There is but one way
to settle the matter. He tears open the en-
yelope and unfolds the half sheet Of note
paper enclosed. A remenant of the sunset
still glowed in the West; by its light he
slowly reads these words scrawled upon the
paper.
DEAR BRoTHER:-You will despise me,
know, when confess to you what have done.
wrong was confident I could double the
money in two months, SO l wrote your name
upon a note for two thousand dollars and got
broker to discount it. Luck was against me
and have lost all. Will you pay the note and
save me from disgrace and-death. / know
what the law calls my crime and know what
the penalty is. 1t you refuse to help me will
put ballet through my heart. will never go
to prison. Poor fatherl 1 am SO glad he did not
live to see this day.
IF YOU will pay the note and so save me from
disgrace, / pledge you my word that, if live,
every dollar shall be paid.
Your miserable Brother,
WILLIAM.
A fresh nights breeze was springing up;
yet, notwithstanding its refreshing GOODNESS,
great beads of sweat gathered upon the fore
head of the reader and dropped, one after
another, upon the ground at his feet. There
was strange confusion and whirl in his
brain and, for moment, he could not re-
mem Der where he was or what had happen
ed. In his perplexity, he sat down upon
rock by the roadside and endeavored to col
lect his thoughts.
As the moth, which had just scorched its
wings in candle, cannot resist the tempta-
ton to fly again into the fatal blaze; so the
first impulse of the dazed man, when he be-
gan to come to himself, was to read again
the terrible letter. But it was growing dark
and his head was a little unsteady; so he
turned and walked rapidly up the hill to-
ward home. Striding into the low, smoke
stained kite hen, where his mother sat by
table knitting, he seized her lamp and, by
its light, again read, deliberately and studi-
ously, every word of his brothers letter.
"Have you got letter from William"
asked his mother, anxiously.
Eyes," in testy and impatient tone.
s.Is he well9'' queried, again, the mother,
anxious to hear from her favorite son.
81 should judge from his letter that he
was" in a hoarse, constrained voice from
John, as he crushed the letter in his brawny
hand.
He took the lantern from its nail, lighted
it and went, like one who is walking in his
sleep, to the barns to see that everything
was snug for the night. His mother, per-
ceiving that something was amiss with him,
and having no idea of the state of the case,
concluded that he was jealous of Will
liams success in life and consoled herself
thus
'sWell, John was always jealous of VIII
liam, and would like to put him down.
but he can't do it. Willie is a smart boy,
and will make his mark in the world"
John returned from the barn, blew out
the lantern. which he hung carefully id its
accustomed place; then went up the creak-
ing stairs to his own room.
What passed in that upper room that night
no pen can justly describe. Old DR.. Greene,
Returning from visit to very sick patient
as late as two O'Clock, saw light shining
from the window and the shadow of tall
figure passing back and forth before it. The
good doctor, with an eye to business, con-
cluded at once that some one in the
house was sick. He went home and sat in
his Office full hour, in the confident expec-
tation of receiving another call.
BY the light OF subsequent events, we now
know that John Hamilton was preparing to
enter upon his career as hero. The current
of strong, active life cannot be turned from
its normal course peaceably. The angry |
waters will boil, and foam and thunder as |
they dash themselves against the rocks that |
obstruct theis way; there will be whirling |
eddies and roaring rapids before the tur- |
bulent stream will settle quietly into the |
new channel. M W
John Hamilton, the stalwart, had come to |
a turn in his life, and there must needs he |
furious boiling and commotion of desires |
and duties. He knew in what direction the |
heroic course lay; but it cost so much to go
that way, when his heart was so bent on 60 |
ing another. His brother had deliberately |
committed crime; why should he not be
treated like other criminals. What right |
had he to ask another to give up all his pros
poets in life to save self-convicted riminal |
from his just deserts. Was he his brothers
keeper? No! he would let the law take its
course.
BUTT was his only. brother. How well
he remembered the little fellow who used to
cling to his brother John so closely? What! |