The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1884-05-08

VIGOROUS dS CfcI. IL w 40 Ou1 EAot hO
had lost his ability to do the work OF
journeyman plumber. Even the ap-
prentice boys outstripped him.
In regard to his children, also, mis-
fortune had been his portion. His eid-
est child-a son-had he lived, would
have been now a man of middle age,
and he had given promise of a grand
manhood. He had been lost at sea in
his twenty-third year. The two COM
ing next in age-a girl and boy-had
been snatched away by malignant
fever that had run riot through the
south of Northamptonshire; so that
only his younger children were Left
four of them-aged respectively, SIX
teen, thirteen, eleven, and nine. Had
the oldest of these children been stout
boys, they might have given much
| help; but the two of them were girls,
heartily willing to do all that lay in
their power, but unable to do much.
One evening Richard Watts, clad in
garb that many beggar might have
rejected, returned to his poverty-strick-
en- home of two poor rooms, dark and
cramped, and sank into a seat with
| long-drawn, weary sigh. In his hand
was crumpled newspaper, about
which his fingers were clutched as
with the desperation of drowning
man. His pale-faced wife came to his
side and kissed him.
what is it, Richard? Let me share
| your troubles"
He raised himself slowly and pain
fully, and gazed up into her face; and
she thought she had never seen him so
| sunken in utter despair.
Julia! o, ii 1 had in all the world
one influential friend, might lift N.Y.
self now. In this paper is an adver-
tisement calling for propositions and
plans and specifications for a new ca
| tbedral to be built. 1t is to be an i'm
| mense structure, an ornament to the
architecture of the realm. Do you re-
member the plans which L made for
the city of Gloucester, and which
were set aside?"
''But, my dear, you erected that
| structure"
AYE, on another plan. The build
ing which l first projected was decided
| to be far too expensive. L have those
| old plans, with all the drafts and draw
| ings of every kind, with every speciG
| cation, so that the very last item re-
| quired in the completion of the build
ing can be seen at a glance. Oh! it
| would have been noble structure!
And it is the very thing now wanted.
/ venture to say there is not to-day III
| England a man who can present bet
| ter or more perfect design. But, alas!
they will not listen to me-"
He paused for little time, and then
4 x.,i+h q b1,rc- Of hot tay~ b1a
| he added:
Julia, l forgot how l was looking,
| and | Ventured into the chambers of
the chief of the commissioners, and
ventured to speak of plan which |
| could show them. How they stared at
me! They thought me lunatic escap-
ed from some asylum, for | heard one
of them whisper to that effect to his
nearest neighbor. Just then the arch
| bishop came in, venerable, kindly
faced patriarch, but l dared not speak
to him. 1 hurried away, well nigh
broken-hearted. This is the end-I
will try no more"
Dear Richard! oh, don't faint yet
l will stand by you. Let us hope-hope
| HoPEn'
ut is of no ISe-no use, my true
heart. All! thou art true, and thou
alone of all the world. What a false,
what heartless world it is!'
Tut! tut! Don't say that, my good
man. There's an immense amount of
good in the world if you will only look
for it.''
1t was the voice of an intruder-a
man who had entered unbidden and
unannounced. Richard Watts arose to
his feet and gazed upon him; and an
exclamation of astonishment burst
from his lips as he recognized his
Grace, the Archbishop of Canterbury.
''You, my lord! You here?''
"Certainly-why notP" replied the
venerable prelate, with smile that
seemed to light and warm the room.
And a wonderful impression came to
Dick Watts mind. He thought the
countenance familiar-like the coun-
tenance of an old time friend. He
gazed more intently, and presently his
heart gave a wondrous bound. The
archbishop nodded and smiled.
'Do you know meP' he asked very
quietly.
'Ah!' the poor man gasped, ''if my
fancy is not playing me false, thou
vert once the poor curate of Brack-
ley"
"Thou art right, friend Watts 1 am
John Moore, once a Northamptonshire
curate, SO poor that he was forced to
live much upon charity; and now l am
the primate of England. A wondrous
leap of fortune, isn't it? And thou hast
gone the other way. But, tell me, true
heart, were there no investments made
in the happy days that can yield thee
return of interest nowp"
'tAlas!-not one, my lordr'
''Howi Dost forget those treasures
laid up in heavenP Hast forgotten the
many deeds OF kindness thou didst for
meP Come, come!-let US see if we
cannot find a golden side to these dark
clouds. | tell thee, those old-time
treasures were not laid up in vain
And, tirst,-l wish to see the plan that
o1r commissioners refused to look at.
L wish you to show 1t to me, and to ex-
plain"
And while Watts was getting his
plans. and the various papers belong
ing to them, and arranging them, the
prelate told to the good wife the story
of his advancement to his present ex-
alted position. He had been made a
rector in Brackley; then he had been
made Bishop of Bangor; and at length
the crowning honor of the Archbish-
opric of Canterbury had been bestowed
upon him. At times it seemed all
dream to him; but the pressing duties
of the office gave him to realize its re-
ality; and he only hoped. and prayed
that he might prove worthy of the high
trust reposed in him.
Mr.. Watts exhibited his artistically
prepared drafts, and plans, and speci-
fications; the archbishop examined
them critically, and was delighted. He
took them away with him, promising
to report quickly.
julia said the poor man, when
his grace had gone, 'what was it that
be nara rou2 / saw him mt some