Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1883-02-01
AN OBLIGING FRIEND.

4 AIN ODhlTlNG r fGlEND.
J, ] had a friend named Jack, the same
assO Offenbach. only that he was not a
] musician; without that he had every
fault. How he became my friend is ca
silly explained. We were boys together
In nay day children were children, play
ing at ball and spinning tops, land not
little men discussing finance or the com.
ing Patti. Whether this was desirable or
whether the children of those days were
any better than the children of the pres.
ent day, matters little to my story. One
day another boy struck Jack. Jack was
small and weak, and perhaps rather
cowardly; he defended himself but
feebiy. l arrived and delivered Jack
from his assailant, but not without los
ing bit of my trousers in the fight,
the loss of which caused me to receive a
long lecture in the evening on the folly
of my ways. Every one knows that a
little boy who leaves fragments of his
pantalOons along the wayside will one
of these days bring up on the gallows.
Jack said to me: ~ on saved my life
yesterday" can not tell you how my
heart swelled with pride at my ten years
of age to have saved the life of broth
er playfellow. When say brother it is
rather figure of speech, for Jack was
small, homely, and most unkempt. "A But
no matter, according to the Scriptures
he was my brother. From the eventful
day when | saved his life Jack became
my intimate friend. 1t occasionad not a
little remark in my native town that
the son of such parents as mine should
associate with the Shoemaker'S child but
my mother always replied with much
spirit:
my son is not proud"
Jack, my friend Jack, thus became my
messmate at home, and whenever stran-
gers asked who the child was they were
told that it WAS the little fellow whose
life Antoine had saved, and l thus ac-
quired much Importance in the eyes OF
our friends.
From this time, / may as we'll &C
knowledge it, L became Jacks victim.
At boarding school 1 was always nbbli-
ged to defend him, and, as his temper
was violent, | was the recipient OF many
hard blows from lists and caps; but it
could not be avoided, as it was not pos
sible to allow my 'protege' to be beaten.
Jack was constantly In need of pens,
papers, or pencils, and l was forced to
deny myself that L might provide all he
asked; for one does not save the life of
brother to see him humiliated before
his comrades. On leaving school lost
sight of Jack. This was the happiest
period of my life; but it was not to be of
long duration.
walking up and down my little chamber
in the Rue st. Jacques, some one knock
ed. Iopened the door and recognized
Jack, whom l had not seen for eight
years. He had come to Paris to seek
employment. Truly, had it been any
one but Jack my reception would not
have been cordial one. for III my posi-
tion of poet any intercourse with clerk
engaged in trade would have been out of
the question, but Jack was my protege.
My dear old friend said he, 4 have
come to you to save my life second
time
What can do for your l asked.
Alas! very simple thing. Divide
with me as formerly. ana without EN-.
ployment, and thought
You are quite right said to him. 4
am in sad circumstances; but when
there is enough for one, there is enough
for two, my dear Jack, so let us break
fast Jack ate all my breakfast, but he
paid me we'll.
You see, Antoine he said, when he
had devOured everything, i am but a
poor devil, not worth my salt. l have
neither your genius nor your knowledge,
but you know l would throw myself in
to the fire for you
Such humility and devotion deeply
affected me, and L replied: My dear
Jack, true friendship is the wealth of
the poor
This state of things lasted for eigh-
teen months, Jack saying to me repeat
edly: You know, Antoine, that l would
throw myself into the fire for you,' and
in such accents that l was always
touched.
One evening the landlord, Millet "a
good man, but there are times when one
is out of conceit with all the world -
said to. me:
'Mr. Antoine, you are an honest fel- |
low, but cannot always lodge you for |
nothing. lido not wish to retain any of |
your effects, but you must find room
elsewhere; you will pay me when you |
can.'
Il will pay you sooner or later, said, |
and he replied, Il am sure of that
Il could have embraced him. The |
good old man! Had l only pen of By
ron or of our great poet, Lamartine, to |
render his name famous in recognition |
of his great soul. Very few landlords |
would have acted 50 nObly. The next |
day packed my bundles and waited for |
Jack. 1t was my intention to ask him
to assist me to remove our goods, but |
Jack did not make his appearance. l |
moved alone, and most sorrowfully.
For more than year l sought the in
spiration of the muse in the Rue Clovis,
when one Sunday spied Jack, evident
about him WAS strikingly new, and his
cost him, but he came to me.
Il knew that ! was an expense to you,
said he, and so went away
& was very unhappy about it, | re-
piled; why not have told me you were
going?'
You would have wished me not to
leave you, and could not live at your
expense any longer
4 do not understand your feelings
Il felt, you see, that who would throw |
myself into the lire for yOu, could not |
alwa.s deprive you of half your daily |