Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1881-04-14
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the boy more than he liked to admit.
But Alfred Horton grew to be twenty
two before the real stress of life assai
ed him. His mother died suddenly theI
and left him even without farewell
She had been so absorbed in her chilG
so regardless of herself, that this possi
bility had not occurred to her; and th
first thing Hiram did was to send t
Bedford, for DIR. Packard, now an oil
man, but still ready to help the son fo
his mothers sake
He found Alfred plunged in reall
desperate grief. His mother was all b
had of relative or friend, and to be ref
not in the first shock of grief that faitl
comes to the support of the young, ant
it was all in vain that Hiram and Deli
tried to sooth him with consolatory tex
or pious admonition. His mother wa
gone, and that idea excluded every 9th
er.
Doctor Packard took different meas
ures. He carried Alfred back to Bed
ford with him, leaving the house in Hi
rams charge, and the passive mournel
was too careless of outer things to OBJ
ject. Once in the new and strange sur
roundings of q busy town, however, the
elasticity Of his age asserted itself. Fol
the first time in his life, he encountered
want and sorrow; and his grief was in
yaded by the truest of this life's mendi.
ants-sympathy for others. DR.. Pack
ard was astonished one day. to see his
ward arrive at the door with neither
hat nor coat.
What's up. Alfred ?" he said, as he
met this half-clothed figure.
Alfred's eyes filled with tears and his
lip quivered like baby's.
doctor, l met a man shiYering in rags
in this wintry day. Only an old cotton
cap on his head and not cent in his
pocket. Are there any Christians in
Bedford 2"
"Two or three" said the Doctor, dry
ly. But how about your own head, Al
fred? Isn't it as cold as that mans ?"
81 could bear it a little while, for can
get another cap. But he couldn't
"I rather think he is quite used to a
cool head outside, my boy, and you are
not; and something less that sealskin
cap would have kept his noddle comfort
able. However, you have to learn good
deal yet; and the first lesson will, no
doubt, be a hard cold"
The Doctor was right. A severe in
fiuenza kept Alfred in bed week, du-
ring which brief time the Doctor dis
covered cap and coat both in the pawn
shop, and was called to prescribe for
Tim Malcahy, notorious good-for-netii-
ing, who had brought on a fit of deliri-
UNI tremens with the price of Alfred's
clothing. 1t was, however, all in vain
that Doctor Packard demonstrated to
Alfred the folly of indiscriminate char
ity. The first Suffering he saw swept
all logic away. He must relieve it. how
ever unworthy; and the consequence
was that the Doctors yard became rem
devious for every tramp and beggar in
Bedford.
Il can't stand it, Doctor" said peppe-
ry Mrs. Packard. my back steps are
pushed askew, my grass is trodden into
mud, the mat is stamped to pieces. and
the kitchen entry smells like a poor
house. / won't have it. The BOYS a
fool He will come to poverty before
you can turn round, if there isn't a stop
put to this sort of thing"
Luckily, my dear, he does not come
of age till he is twenty-five. l had hard
work to get that will made; but l did.
and !, being his guardian, can be as hard
hearted as / please. But did make a
mistake in bringing him here. | own
it."
Mrs. Packard was routed. She was
quick-tempered; bur she was generous.
and If once an opposer laid down his
arms, or even dipped his flag, she gave
him all the honors of war. She said no
more, and soon the tramps, finding Al
fred's pocket empty and the Kitchen
door locked, ceased to disturb her. But
the trouble was only transferred. Alfred
was in despair. 1t had been the burden
of his mothers teachings that he should
consider the poor; yet he had known no
poverty except that decent and make
shift want which exists here and there
in the deep country, and can be easily
relieved at the expense of good deal of
voluntary humility on the giyer's part
and condescension on the receivers.
Mrs. Horton had been so pinched in hel
own needs, as well as her charities. by
the tight hand of her husband that she
felt herself to be making sort of atone
ment for her sins and sweet savored
offering to the Giver of her present good
in teaching Alfred to be entirely unself-
ish; a lesson rot without its pleasures.
for he was rewarded by tolerably real
gratitude from the respectable people
he had benefited. That wise selfish
ness is, in fact, the strong element of
had not entered Mrs.
Horizons thought. She did not remem--
Der that the measure given for our love
to our neighbor is our own self-loye. or
that just goodness cares for that power
Of mind and body given by self-respect
which alone enables US to help others.
Alfred's tender heart and unframed
mind fell into her range of feeling only
too readily. To give away all his earth
y goods to feed the poor was his ear.
nest desire and design, and be was out
ragged that any guardianship should in
terfere with what he could see so plain
y to be his duty.
"But, my dear boy" argued the Doctor,
with a strenuous and smiling patience
hat made his very laws ache as he ex-