The Evening critic., 1885-03-31
JAMES WILNER'S DREAM

evening" James was seated before glow
ing coal fire In his open Franklin stove,
with slippered feet resting on tho warm
ledge Of iron in front, and eyes cast In
dreamy silence on the dancing spirits of
yellow fame between the bars. He had
just come in from ramble about tho city,
whose wintry streets were laden with frozen
snow, beneath dull, gloomy canopy OF
leaden clouds overhead, The chilly wind
whisted sadly mournfdl cadence round
the gable of his small cottage, and rattlod
dismally amid the loosened Stats in the
green window-shutters.
Involuntarily he began 10 SEQ pictures Of
distress and suffering in the red Goals.
Grotesque, dwarfed.looking human beings,
with boDy limbs and pinched faces and,
oh such looks of pain and misery In
their sunken oyes, appeared in constant
succession; and from each thin pair of
lips ho seemed to hear the piteous cry
"For tho love of God give us food and
warm shelter, for we arc freezing and
starving"
Times wore hard. Tho streets and pow
crty-strickon homes were filled with men
out of work by thousands; and James had
read in that days press that never before
in the history of the city had so much of
gaunt want and crushing distress boon
known.
Half aloud to himself, as he watched the
terrible pictures of fwrotchedness in the FIRE,
and recalled to mind the horrible tales Of
starvation he had read, he cried aloud
What n shamc!"
At that instant hc was startled at tho
sight of q venerable figure seated near, with
white flowing hair and beard, garments Of
a long bygone pattern and full Of singularly
benevolent seeming.
In q mild voice the figure asked "What
is shame?'
James responded "rhis dreadful star
vaton and suffering there is so much talk
Of, and yet abundance Of wealth to make
everybody comfortable"
True" the figure softly rejoined "If
all who possess more than they need would
give of their abundance very much of the
suffering at this time abroad in all the
land might be removed"
THAT is what have said all along"
James asserted. "Let rich people give as
they ought to, the biggest part of the want
aud distress would be done away WITH
"But why do you not give of your abund-
aDce, them" the venerable figure inquired
II give?-I give of my abundance"
James CALCULATED in voice of astonish-
ment.
The figure rejoined "Whatever a man
uses that is luxury he has no pressing
need Of, may surely DO termed of his abund-
ance."
~ agree to that. And just wish / had
abundance to give. I'd soon spread it
around where it would do lots of good.
But as am only a work ingman, Just now
on short hours work at that, have all
can do to make both ends meet at home"
There was rare smile ON the stran.
gers face as he asked
How much do you spend each week in
beer and tobacco p
"Ob, Just dime or two-not worth talk
ing about"
But how much, please?'
well, one glass of beer day, and, say,
q couple Of dimes worth of tobacco each
week.
THAT comes to 30 cents for bcer-alto-
gether So cents Not great deal, 1t is true.
But have you ever thought how much help
might In many cases be rendered with even
that small sum ?''
James hung his head. He had never
given the matter thought in this direc-
tion.
"You will agree with me" the figure re
sumed, that oven If beer and tobacco
gives a certain amount of comfort and ex-
hilaration that seems good to enjoy after q
bard days work, 1t is not absolutely neces-
sary to needful maintenance That in
simple truth, beer and tobacco are really
luxuries that may be easily dispensed with
TO attain great purpose, and leave nothing
Of injury behind"
81 never looked at it in that shape"
81 know You have not as indeed not one
in ten thousand Of your fellow-working-
men have ever looked at the ability to as
sist each other in that simple shape. But
can you not see, that small as is the triiie
You may spare out Of the cost OF your beer
and tobacco, If evory workingman would
swell the sum by his own possible mite,
how large the combined amount would be,
and how grand, the total of good that could
be accomplished !"
The speaker was gone. James shook
himself, and rubbed his eyes to feel as
sured that he was awake.
dream, certainly dream. But it left
reality of great good behind it.
The very next day, as the workman was
passing along one of the business streets,
ponderiDg over the strange vision he had
seen, he met wee bit of child, shivering
| in her thin garments, and whose reddened
toes were barred to the frozen snow through
her worn shoes. 1t was about tho time
he took his customary mug of beer, and
he was just about needing fresh paper of
tobacco.
Fifteen cents would be needed right hore.
Was it right to spend it while so many of
| his fellows were suffering from want of the
absolute necessities of existence? Would
not that money accomplish vastly more of
| good il given to this poor girl? He had his
hand in his pocket to get the trifle, when a
second time his eyes fell on the little red
| toes uncovered to the cold. 1t was more
| than he could stand. He would draw N
sight ON his future expenditure Of beer and
tobacco. At least the amount of one week.
| supply should be devoted to charity.
so he took the child TO tho nearest shoe
store and bought nice pair Of rubbers for
| ~ cents, then ran across the street for
pair OF warm stockings, costing 10 cents
more.
Pressing her cold feet in the now com
Portable covering, the girl ran home crying
fIom excess of wonder and delight.
That week James missed the comfort of
his daily beer aud tobacco. But he had
the greater comfort of knowing that ho had
made one suffering heart glad And how
cheaply the satisfaction and pleasure had
| been bought. The loss of beer and tobacco
seemed small when set against the comfort
and happiness he had given in place of il
| 70 the little Impoverished one.
| Next week ho CHANGED TO discover the
| girls home, aud his heart ached whom ho
saw how cold and bare and desolate t was.
There were four other small brothers and
sisters with mother weakened from over
work and lack of wholesome food, and
iaiher broken down in mind aud body from
| incuIable disease Only the day before the
| doctor had told him that ho could not nos
sibly recover from his terrible malady of
cancer in his stomach.
| With such bitter tears as only heart
broken man can shed, he therenpon cried
ION my God What shall doY What
shall ! do? could bear il myself, but
what WIZ become of my dear wife aud chill