The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1883-03-07

The New York Journal relates an
incident OF Mr.. Vanderbilt's drive.
While he was passing through the
park a small boy attempted to cross
the road in front ofhis flying horses.
The boy in his attempt to avoid the
horses fell over in the road, but was
not hurt. Mr.. Vanderbilt vas fright
ened. He doesn't care much for
human life, but on this glad Christ
mas dav he did not want to run over
anybody. Bad enough for his rail-
road to crush, pierce, and burn the
life out of them. There was a diff
ference between that and actually
doing it himself. He felt so glad
when he saw the lad safe and sound
that be who had just been preparing
to rush on. In the hope that he had
not been recognized, pulled up and
beckoned the boy to him. Here,
Johnny" he said, here's a dollar.
Don't you try to cross roads that
way again"
why, sir, / was running for a
doctor. Father told me to hurry up,
cause be 'ad TO go out and mothers
all alone"
"Why does four father go out on
Christmas Day? To the rumshop,
| suppose" said Mr.. Vanderbilt,
frowning.
"No, sir. Father works on the
railroad, and if he misses a day he
gets locked"
Even Christmas"
"Yes, sir. Mr.. Vanderbilt don't
let up on anybody cause it's Christ
mas"
"He works for Vanderbilt, does
he?"
That he does, and more's the bad
luck Of it, as he says"
"Why?'
well, you see mothers sick. and
father has been staying up nights
with her, and then he'd take a nap,
and twice he got late to the switch
and got iped a quarter each time"
How much does he get a day."
Zone dollar, sir"
"Seventv-fiye cents a day? Good
Cod and a sick wife at that"
thought Mr.. Vanderbilt, and his
heart misgaye him. Was this right,
after all? "And what sort of a
Christmas dinner will you have to-
day?:" he asked.
"We don't get hone. Father amt
home and mothers sick. The
moneys got to 90 for to buy medi-
cine, you see, sir"
This was hard and no mistake.
"Will you take me tc your house?"
asked Mr.. Vanderbilt.
"Yes, sir; it's right here, sir" said
the boy.
1t was a picture OF desolation, but
clearly; no carpet, but a good, sub
stantial cottage; a small sprig of
frs, a woman sitting in an easy
chair, thin. pale, but cheerful. When
Mr.. Vanderbilt entered, the woman
exclaimed:
why, you're not the doctor, sir?"
"No. my good woman, but | came
from him; he is very busy. Now,
what is the matter with you??"
Weakness, sir"
What from?
well, sir, l hate to say, but l
think it's from want of food"
Il thought So" and Mr.. Wander
bit turned around and put u $50
bill in an envelope and also his
card.
In half an hour open this and
send it around TO the store. You
will find a prescription that will do
you good. There is also "A card in
here. Send your boy to that address
to morrow, and I'll give him some
thing, toe. You shan't starve any
more"
Before the sick woman could say
anything he was out and off, but as
he rode back to his palace yesterday
afternoon his face looked the picture
of good nature. He smiled and
laughed to himself so that people
turned round and exclaimed:
"What can be the matter with
William H?"
When anybody looked at him he
did not pale, and the rattle of his
wheels over the hard road made
rvthmic music to the joyous beating
of his heart. 1t was the merries,
Christmas day Nh. Vanderbilt has
spent this many year.