Springfield globe-republic. (Springfield, Ohio) 1884-1887, 1886-10-03

and steady yourself l wish could walk
home with you; but there will be 50 many
people in and out this morning that car
not possibly leave. Let me send for a cab
MOI Well, IL you would rather go
as Jack moved impatiently towards the
door, won't detain you; only-stop a
moment, Jack. l am afraid OF offendin G
your CO nfOunded pride-but won't you
can't T-and Balfour waxed eager and in
coherent-"be your banker for a time? You
would be doing me kindness, as might
not feel such a brute then as do now"
MANY thanks, old fellow; but that can
not be. Let me keep my independence as
long as can. Don't blame yourself for
what has happened" and Jack held out
his hand; 1t was only a mistake"
Out in the Strand again; but how
changed everything seemed since an hour
ago! The world is dreary place when
the sunshine is gone from our heart and
hand and brain are weary of striving and
planning, when all seems of no avail
As in a dream, Jack turned his footsteps
homeward. He looked so white and
broken down that IA few plying and
curious glances were directed at him; but
no one had time, or, perhaps, inclination,
TO bestow much sympathy on a stranger.
In this world, the race is TO the swift and
the battle to the strong, and our weak
and unfortunate brethren meet with
scant pity.
Half way over Waterloo bridge Jack
felt he must rest awhile, for he was faint
and tired. His breakfast had been a
small one, for he was eager to get away;
and now want of food and the exciteme nj
he had gone through were telling upon
him. He seated himself in one of the re
cesses Of the bridge, and crossing his
arms on the stone balustrade, looked
down on the cold, gray river. No money;
no chance of work that would bring in
more than a few shillings; delicate wife
and child to provide for-what was he
to do,"
How quietly the barges were floating
down the river! A little bright sunshine
dispersed the early morning fog, and
Jack gazed down and Listened to the WOO
ing voice of the river, whispering of rest,
peace and fOrgetfulness; and as he lis
tened, shadOwy arms seemed to rise
out of the water and to beckon him down.
Would it not be best for his dear ones
that he should slip quietly out Of the
worldt Muriel's friends would care for
her and the child, il he were out of the
way. All, hut would anything comfort
NJ uriel for his losss Jack cou.d not pre-
tend to think that she would be lightly
consoled. The tender heart which hal
clung to him through good and evil
could he bear to break it; No, however
hard life may be, for her sake he must
work and struggle on; perhaps some day
be will see light IN the darkness.
Jack turned from the river, ashamed
that he could have thought for one in
slant of flIngng his life away like a COW
ard. His limbs were aching and tremb-
ling from the cold; for nearly an hour he
had sat exposed to the bitter weather.
He longed to get home now Muriel's
arms would enfold him the more closely
in his deso.ation, and MurieI's warm
kisses would fall on his face, and ighten
somewhat the heavy lead that was press
ing on his heart. And Lulu-dear little
Lulu, and the shabby, homely rooml
What a desire he had to get back to them
all; and they seemed SO far off still, foi
only slowly and painfully could he drag
along
He reached Waterloo station. He was
nearly home now. He attempted TO cross
the road; at the same time a hanson cat
dashed out of the station. Jack heard
warning cry, but stood helpless and con-
fused, not com pretending his danger.
There was loud exc Gmation Of horror,
and then little crowd gathered round a
figure which was lifted gently
on a stretcher and carried to the nearest
surgery. The doctor was 6 home, and
after keen glance at the deathly face and
careful examination OF the crushed, i'm
passive body, he turned TO the bystanders
and said:
Il can do nothing here. The poor fel
low is dead. philadelphia Call.