The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1881-06-15
WEARY OF LIFE.

stream were beginning 10 be eXtln-
guished, when two men hurried
from different directions towards the
shore.
The older of the two had already
reached the strand, and was prepar-
ing to make a leap, the designs OF
which was not to be mistaken; but
at that instant the younger one seiz-
ed him by the arm eXclaiming, Sir,
/ believe you want to drown your
selfI'
"Yo1 have guessed il. What is
that to you?"
This was the answer spoken in
an angry tone:
Nothing | know. j would SIM
ply request YOU to wait few min
utes-when, if you like, we viii
make the journey together, arm in
arm-the best way of dying"
With these words, the younger ex-
tended his hand to the elder, whose
was not Withheld.
The younger continued in a seem
ing tone of enthusiasm: so be it I!
Arm in arm Truly, did not think
a human heart would beat with
mine in this last hour. | will not
seek to know who you are-an hon
est man or a villain. Come ?-let
us begin the journey together!"
The elder man held the younger
back, and fixing his dim, half ex-
tinguished eyes upon the counte-
nance of his companion, exclaimed /:
Hold You seem TO me to be too
young to end your life by suicide.
A man of your years has still a bril-
liant, alluring future in his grasp" F"
what have | to hope for in the
midst of a world that is full of wick
edness, falsehood, treachery and un-
happiness? Comet quick !"
"You are still young. You must
have had very sorrowful experien-
ces to make life already thus insup-
portable to you"
II despise mankind" ]"
Without exception ?"
Without exception"
"Well, then, you have now, per-
haps. found a man whom you viii
necessarily despise. / have, believe
me during my whole life, lived an
honorable man."
Really! that is highly interesting.
1t is pity had not earlier made
your acquaintance"
Leave me to die alone, young
man. Live on. Believe me, time
heals all wounds, and there are men
of honor yet to be found"
Now, if you take this view, why
are YOU hurrying SO fast from the
worldl" said the young man.
''Oh, Tn an old sickly man, una
bic to makes livelihood a man who
cannot, will not see his only child,
his daughter, blighting her youth
and laboring night and day TO sup
port him."
Now, sir, haveyou daughter who
does this for you?" asked the young
man, surprised.
'And with what endurance, with
what love, does she sacrifice herself
for me-"
"And you want to ocommit suicide =?
are you madm
''Shall / murder my daughter +?
The life which she is now leading is
certain DEATH" answered the old
man, in despairing voice.
"Good sir, come with me to the
nearest inn that is yet open, and let
us drink a bottle of wine together.
You VIII relate to me your history,
and, if you like, will let you hear
mine. SO much, however, will | say
toyou beforehand chase all thoughts
Q: selfmurder out of your mind, /
am rich, and, if things beas you say,
from henceforth you and your daugh-
ter shall lead pleasant life"
The old man followed the young
er without opposition. A few min
utes later, over full glasses, the elder
began:
"My history is soon told. / was a
merchants clerk, but always unlucky.
As / had nothing by inheritance,
and the young girl / married was
poor, / was never able to commence
business on my own account, and
remained to an old age in depend
ent subordinate position. Finally,
| was discharged on account Of my
years. and then began a struggle
for subsistence. Ny wife died of
trouble, and now my poor child is
wearied TO gain my support. / can
not bear to see her work herself to
death for me-therefore it is better
l 60. Now you know ALL"
Friend" exclaimed the young
man, you are the most fortunate
man | ever encountered in my life.
1t is insane to call that misfortune.
Nobody is easier to help than you.
Tomorrow viii make my will, and
you shall be-no resistancel my
heir. The coming night is my last.
Before this, however, must see your
daughter, out of mere curiosity. i
would for once see how one looks
who really deserves the name of wo-
man."
But, young man, what can II be
that makes you SO unhappy thus
early2" questioned the elder, much
moved.
Il believe it was the wealth my
father left me. / was the only son
of the richest banker in this CITY.
Ny father died five years since, leav-
ing me more than was good for me.
Since that time | have been deceiy-
ed and betrayed by everyone, with
out exception, with whom l ever
had any connection. Some have
pretended friendship for neon ac-
count of my money. Others have
pretended to love me-again for my
money; and it went on. | often
mingled in the garb of simple
workman, with the masses, and 1
thus one day became acquainted |
with a charming being, a young
girl, to whom my whole heart soon
went out in love. ] disclosed to her
neither my name or my position. / |
longed to be loved for myself alone,
and for time it appeared as if /
was going to be happy-at last,
The Young Girl and I. whom she