The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1883-09-05


cash-and then Won shall have your birth
day present" (rhe day following was
Mrs. Ferriss birthday. She had well
nigh forgotten it.) And the boy was as
good as his word.
How proud the mother was of this
robust, atfectionate specimen of humanity.
Tonight she counts the number of times
that he has journeved to and fro between
the East and the West. The mortgage is
paid, the six acres handsomely improved,
the house comfortably furnished, and as
homelike home as you could find in all
the country round. And now the mother
is thinking when Ben will come again.
His law business called him to New York
once or twice year. 1t is about time
for him to put in his welcome appearance.
al wonder what sort of night it is 2"
says Mrs. Ferris to Betty, as she spreads
the table for the next morning meal. at
don't hear those frightful fog-wbistles 40
often as early in the evening. is that the
wind ? Why the fog must have cleared
away And, sure enough, it rains Well,
Betty, go to bed. shall wait until the
theatre train goes by. The Weather
makes me restless, I think
So the mother takes her book in hand
and sits by the table reading. The wind
continues to rise. It pulls harshly at the
blinds. The lantern in the portico creeks
as if panied by the struggle to retain its
proper position. The rain strikes the east
trees side of the house spitefully, the old
groan and lament, the storm wakes angry
and still angry. Suddenly Mrs. Ferris
hears the wild whistle of the theatre tain
1t whistles for down breaks. The train
stops at the station. "Dear me who can
be coming on the train at this time of
night ?" saws Mrs. Ferris. Again the
whistle shrieks, the train goes on, and the
traveller, whoever he may be, is left to
grope in the dark and the mnd and the
storm.
Hark the gate creaks. Has the wind
lifted the latch. or does it yield to some
human touch ? The mistress peers
through the window into the gloom. Her
heart takes great leap. A man ia COM
ing up the walk. He sways to and fro in
the wind az though impotent TO fight the
storm. 1t is Ben Aud the mother
hastens to the front porch, steps fearlessly
into the face of the tempest, and cries,
"Ben |" Yes, it is he. He climbs the
steps in dazed, uncertain. hasty manner.
His mother clasps him to her heart. He
fails to respond. There is a wildness
about him that is very STRANGE. He groans
az if in great distress. go my boy in
Gods name tell me what has happened ?"
His utterance is thick, vet vehement. his
tone is that of anguish and despair. Thew
stand in the doorway-the storm beating
IN, fho,,
look into each others faces. The son is
storm-stained, shivering,s hopeless, the
mother startled, appealing, terror stricken.
Mother. 1 am lost ruined Curse me I"
The nether-instinct rose superior tn all
else. Quick as thought the mother drew
her boy into the cosey room and placed
him within the light and warmth of the
glowing fire. Then she brought him dry
changes of garments. set the tea kettle
a.siugipg upon the kitchen stove, made
the snow-wbite table to groan beneath
the weight of rich, substantial fare, and
all to no purpose. Her boy followed
her with eyes that told alternate tales of
WEAKNESS and frenzy. The fire was
bright, but he shivered by its side; the
garments were clean and warm, but that
brought no comfort; the food was all the
best, but it could not tempt him. No, he
was burdened with the weight of woe
full sin and material things could afford
no solace or relief. And now we leave
mother and son alone. Their condolences
are sacred and we give them due respect.
When Bennett Ferris began work in the
West he was as clean in life as any man
you could name. But it sometimes oc-
ours that radical changes in ones sur
rouDdings and associations will work rad
ical changes in ones character, although
the individuals habits of life NAV have
been previously well fixed. Especially is
this true of sensitive, impossible natures.
Meanwhile the better instincts will live and
perpetually assert themselves in curious
unexpected ways. Now Ben was man
whose very virtues made him peculiarly
susceptible to certain vices. And when
he did not breathe the pure atmosphere of
a Christian home his danger was extreme.
So his history was the history of weary
throng of men. He mingled with men,
and he became az other men of like parts
and passions. His hours were late, but he
was never accused of drinking to excess.
He played well, but he never played high,
ohu ITO WINS always prOLupI 10 pay MS
gambling debts. According to the code
of morals that obtained in the city where
Ben practiced law, he was a man of I'M
Improbable integrity and superior char
acter. He was trusted with large sums
of money in his journeyings to New York
He was foremost in all laudable enter.
prises for the improvement of his city.
He gave generously to all philanthropic
and religious appeals. His fine library,
which cost him some eight thousand dol
lars, was open to all corners. In fact he
was man who was deemed worthy, bv
common consent, to hold the judgeship of
that section, and the franchises of the
people called him to that honorable
position.
When Judge Ferris came to New York
in March he carried with him five or six
thousand dollars of his own earnings,
which purposed to invest for his mother
always thinking of his mother), and
some ten thousand dollars for a friend,
which he was to dispose of in a certain
interest. He arrived in the city on the
morning of the Goth. He spent the day
with several old cropies from the West
whom he had not seen in many day.
He drank with them. He played with
them Tn the exuharance of oood faal;p1