The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1885-04-02

pressed SODs
Fred Vernon believed every word of this
narrative, as might AVE been expected of
q man unused to contact with criminals
and as it happened this statement was
true. "A cunningly devised fable" would
have been as readily credited, for at this
stage of his life he had great faith in hui
manity, particularly in the unfortunate,
down-trodden classes. After-experience
forced upon him the knowledge that with a
portion of them their misfertunes are their
stock in trade.
Now his chivalrous nature was fully
aroused; he felt sublimely indignant with
the Michigan Governor, whose name he
could not recall, and he registered a vow
that that dignitary should attend to the
pale little woman's petition. Thinking of
Gertrude, surrounded by every comfort and
luxury and shielded from trouble, made him
more han ever tender and pitiful to all less
fortunate women. He s~oliloquized: " In
the sad vicissitudeS of life my darling
may sometime need a champion if l were
not able to protect and care for her."
When the train stopped at jackson he
escorted the convict's wife to a carriage,
paid the driver, gave the little girl two
twenty dollar gold pieces, then, strange as
it may seem, within a week he utterly for
got the existence of these unf ortunates,
and a year passed before he remembered
them again. The encounter, however, had
served to restore him to his usual kindly
interest in humanity.
The train sped on through the bright
summer evening, over flower-bordered
streams, through meadows adorned with
newly-cut grassd bearing this passenger
toward the Calamity tina was already pro-
jecting a shadow over his life.
1t is startling for a comparatively rich
man to be suddenly confronted by poverty,
as Mr.. Vernon learned when his uncle's
death disclosed the fact that the business
had somehow gone to ruin. Still he was not
SO much dismayed as might have been ex-
pected. Making his own way in the world,
the inexperienced man anticipated, would
be quite easy, and he felt strong enough to
conquer adverse fate. Gertrude, too, bore
the tidings of reverse quite bravely, and
had an unreasoning faith that everything
would eventually-turn out all right.
Mr.. Vernon might IA retained a por-
tion of his fortune, which had been
invested in the business, but his high sense
of honor forbade that subterfuge, and
everything was given up, even to the house
furnished with loving care for his bride
This exceptional manifestation of integrity
produced quite a Juror of admiration
among the creditors, but their enthusiasm
lie not take any practical form. 1t was
not convenient for any of them to offer the
ruined merchant a suitable situation
Some of them were sure hat "such a noble
young fellow as Vernon, who had always
been helping everybody" was sure tc
prosper; while others expressed the opinion
that the Lord would reward him, which
was a comfortable and easy way of &C.
quitting themselves of obligations to Offer
a helping hand to a fallen man! Each one
expected some generous action of hi:
neighbor, so it happened that nobody die
anything.
The man to whom everything desirable
had hitherto come could not readily GRASP
the means of helping himself, so the two
young people, who had no care in the worlt
beyond buying everything that they NIGH
| harmon fn dociro Snon fnund fh IAN col UQ,
confronted with the very serious problem
of life.
Two years after the interruption of theil
wedding tour, Mr.. and Mrs. Vernon hal
tai telegram had reached them. They
were both considerably changed by tint
and circumstances. They had cherished
an exceptionally lofty ideal of life, bu
their minds, which were to have been ex
banded in the study of art n literature
sideration of petty economies; and the ex
istence which was to have been so CRANE
and free, had of necessity become crampet
by the Limitation of poverty. 1t was, per
haps, too early to estimate the effect of thu
transformation upon their characters, bu
kindly deeds to others more un
fortunate than themselves testified
By some fatality they had beel
requited by more than the average shar
| OIL luRTdblbuue. lucy d OSG ouU VI tutl
lives something of the sweet romance tha
they always meant to cherish.
"But When from youth the dream departs
1t takes something from our hearts,
And it never comes again."
Still these young people were not hope
gether held compensations, n they wer
still young enough to expect a favorabl
turn in fortune. Their most importan
service had been in securing the release o
the man unjustly condemned for murder
By the time Mr.. Vernon recalled tn
events of that strange journey, a ne,
Governor had been installed in Michigan
His wife, like Linda Gilbert, was 9Th
prisoners FRIEND" and her memor,
is still gratefully cherished, thong
The investigation she instituted ~satisie
her of the prisoners innocence, and so b
was set free. Though a year had passe
since this event, Mr.. and Mrs. Vernon ha
received no acknowledgment of their inter
position. They were a little surprise
at this but not at all embittered, an
were still jealous champions of the OF
pressed. Being genuine philanthropist:
they obeyed sympathetic impulses from
higher motive THAI a desire to win graft
tude.
Five years passed and the Vernons foun
that their fortune had not been perma
nently improved by their removal to til
West. Occasional CLEANS of prosperit
had cheered them, which were Away
co~mmemorated by great generosity to ott
ers, but these episodes had only serve
to form a vivid contrast with the tenor {
) their lives. Though they never exchange
/ words of repining they both felt acutel
the contrast between life as they wei
obliged to accept it, and life as they ha
! pictured it in their bright young dreams.
! Another year went by, and the days
i picturesque poverty were passed;. actui
. restitution had come. No amount of ell
! ergy and endeavor could avail again
!. the combination of adverse circun
stances that surrounded these unfortl
nate people. The fatal Black Frida
y brought the browning stroke of misfortun
! The consequent anxiety eventually rel
i dered them both ill. Destitute and sic
there was no refuge for them except tt
the poor comfort of being together. Wi
this last humiliation and grief, hope al
g faith in God seemed utterly crushed o.
q of their hearts. The man was the mo
despairing of the two, and after some tin
' had elapsed he made a solemn resolution
I end his own life, as soon as he could b
come possessed of any means to accor
plish the deed. When he was so weak
scarcely to be able to write, he feeb
traced these lines of farewell:
e MY Poor SUFFERING WIFE:-When you re
these wordS ! shall be beyond the reach
n earthly pal and sorrow, but | do not tai
my life in my own land with the coward
Is idea of escaping from misery, and leavil
Ii you to bear it alone. L ave deliberate
come to the conclusion that fate is again
me, that l can never make your life anythil
e but a continualt trial of privation and anxiet
and SO the best course is to die for you.
d the old happy days / have often told you til
ir l would die for YOU. 1 said it unthinkinp
e then, but 1 mean it now.
n could have borne your d~eath-there
Is peace in sorrow for the dead-but to live
N perhaps for years, to be always standing
IS your light, to be a dead weight dragging y
st down to deeper depths of misery, this j col
not endure. You are still young and beau
a full. o, my darling, if 1 were to see you aga
:, I should not have the strength to go aw
d and leave you! Life may be bright for Y
a yet; so far it has only been a horror of de
lation, and 1 hoped to make you so happy.
e want you to see all the beauties of the wor
,e ] intended to render your existence a dres
10 of poetry, music and romance; and l col
do nothing except to love you, and that
,e have done, God only knows how madly..
Forgive me, my darling, for the sorrow
cause you now. If others think me coward