The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1881-05-26
IN THE MIDST OF STRIFE,

the great city clock, one would have
seen that it was near midnight. And
the light rain, which had been falling
during the day and most of the even
ing. had now ceased, the clouds were
breaking apart in ragged masses, and q
bright, full moon high in the Heavens
made the night wildly beautiful. In
truth. the grim old bell-rnger, solemn
~ smok ng his pipe and watching all
from the lookout tower above the
clock. could not remember any night
that had pleased his fancy more. Below
lay the great city stretched out like a
map unrolled from the glittering water
of the harbor miles and miles away
toward the dim hills of the country,
and bordered by the tall masts and
rigg ne OF the many ships at the docks.
Here were long streets and avenues,
that tapered into the distance. until
their rows Of gas-lights appeared linked
together; and here and there were
hundred little streets, lanes and alleys,
many of them d stinguishable only by
The dark shadows their existence made
between the crowded blocks. At one
Point or another high buildings doomed
up gloomily above their neighbors:
church-steep pies. also, were conspicuous
in every directions; and in two or three
places lowered huge chimneys of work
shops, emitting their smoke. Now and
then the rumble OF heavy stages. the
pulling OF small steamers in the harbor,
or the sound of some distant bell could
be heard.
The old bell-ringer had watched it all
many and many a night; but, lying on
the lounge, at an opposite window of
the tower, was a boy, fifteen or sixteen
years old, who had never before looked
down on the weird, wonderful SIGHT.
Its glimmer and magnitude fascinated
him.
81 should like to lie here in this
moonlight week. watching it all, Mr..
Trexler," he sa d, after long silence
Aye, lad, you might well wish
that the old man returned. cit
doesn't look like this always. Some
nights its dark and lonesome enough;
dark and lonesome, you know. 1t
rains, p'raps and the wind blows, and
then there's fires breakin' out every
hour or so. maybe. BY and by you'll
see it different"
1t would be pleasanter, though, what
ever it might turn out, Philip Kempton
thought, than the hard work he had
been employed at. What he wanted
was chance to rest little. and now
and then do as he cbose-the way bows
did who had fathers to provide for
them. instead of always tending ma
chinery in a noisy foundry. Up there
in the tower, keeping watch every
night for fires with the kind old bell
ringer, he meant to forget great deal
that had happened in the two or three
years past. There would be an oppor-
tunity, too, Of tive or six hours every
day after he had slept to work a little
on something he kept hid away at
home-something he had begun one
night by the light of the foundry fires,
and been perplexing himself with a
long while.
He stood up, tall, slender boy, with
pale face. and leaned against the side
of the window. MIR. Trexler, pushing
the tobacco into his pipe and watching
him, W shed that he was a trife more
rugged. His mother set a sight by
him, poor woman; and if anything
should happen to the lad, it would 90
hard with her. She and the boy had
had a hard time of it since they'd been
living in the same tenement with his
family. Sometimes the lad was sick,
then the mother herself; and about all
they had to live on was what the boy
could earn. Poor people had a hard
struggle to live, anyhow, Mr.. Trexler
thought, hunting for q match and then
going across to his own lookout again.
Sometimes it seemed as though every.
body was a-crowding and pushing and
fighting to get ahead. and the whole
city was throbbing below him. Twenty
years he had been looking on it-now
in the daytime, now in the night
watching the people coming and going,
coming and going.
He took his pipe out of his mouth
with some de'iberation, leaned out of
the window, and scanned the distance
a moment.ssN
Now, then, ladr' he said turning
round quickly. There it is, away up
there on the east side, where the sky il
beginning to redden. Quick! Let us
sound the alarm"
This was Philips initiation, and he
trembled a little with excitement as he
helped TO lift the long lever that struck
the bell. At first there was onlv the
crimson glare in the sky; but dark,
massive cloud of smoke soon rolled up
from the spot and struggled away,
leaving a broad, leaping lame in its
wake-a sight common enough to
Philip before he had watched many
more nights, just then, however, it
all made vivid impression; and when
he had gone home at daybreak and
ia len asleep, it went on repeating it.
sell over and over--the red sky, the
smoke, the flames, and the loud clang-
ing bell. startling the deserted streets
far and near.
He was q sensitive, thoughtful boy,
quick to perceive the beautiful or the