Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-02-07
CHAPTER XIV,
A HOLIDAY.

The streets of the little village are alive with the people commonly shut up in the 5reat mills out of sight. It was only one nan dead, the world in which he moved 'rowded along, and if he had come back even Q soon, he would have had to make a place or himself, as when he started first. Another nan was born the minute he died, and the ranks were always kept full.
 There was holiday at last, and the people were the nearest they could get to holiday lress. The husbands and fathers had but few changes to make. Their aprons, if they were fortunate enough to have them, wer. oH, and their overalls; their sleeves were oiled down, too, revealing tho wear of storm md sun on the cheap stuff of which the clothes of the poor are made. But the young nen had, most of them, some hashy color ,bout their necks, and wore some threadbare black coat, with hers ssnd there a whole ,howy suit, bought regardless Of the poverty hat stared them in the face. The higher ;lasses had taught them the lesson that )oor man can expect no consideration or expect anywhere, and each human creature. whose spirit is not all broken, will save his cant pennies to disguise in the livery of the prosperous the poverty that the world makes 1t once his misfortune nDd his disgrace. Most of the girls, too, had gilt or rubber jew
 
 heir necks, and the most elaborate and massive earrings. They wore flashing rib oons of the most startling colors, and for lresses cheap Ainsy limitations of the most costly stuffs. t --
 All had gathered near the Breton mansion. The door was hung with black crape ill vol luminous folds. A melancholy hearse, with plumes waving the insignia of woe, was at she gate. But the faces of the .Duititude were happy, even gay, and the murmur Of heir voices had no cadence of sadness. Yet tor one moment they were quiet. It wa, when eight bareheaded men, with awe il Jheir faces, the awe of mortals in the pres ,nce of the grand mystery of death, came ;lowly out of the crapc hung door bearing ,etween them the deposed lord of the house. Then appeared at the door the face of the aeir, young Philip, pale and grief stricken, and an involuntary hum of greeting met him from the people who lined the roadside and hustled tho carriages in waiting. He was Sheir hope, their trusted deliverer, their friend who had seen how hard their lives were, and had once promised to help them. His words that night of the fire had sunk deep into their hearts and been re- peated from mouth to mouth, with many an addition of an eager imagination. To be sure, he had done but little to fulfill his promise. But there were the fire escapes to oear witness to his honesty, and his father, the one they were expected to mourn for, was a hard man to move. Had the young man not admitted in their meeting he was too weak to help them! Now he was untram. peled; the unquesaioned owner of the Breton Mills; his wish was the sole authority hence forth, and he wished kindly to them. His word the only law throughout the great factory, and he had given his word to help them. Not soul but believed in the dawn of vague day of general happiness. Few had clear ideas of the clements of their long wretchedness. They thought everything was wrong in the system under which the poor were so unhappy, and the remedy that oc- cured to their minds was, of course, to change everything. No more long hours, no more scant pay, no more favor1tlsm; all should have alike No more strikes or con- flicts or complaints or bitterness were dreamed of, for there would be no hardships left
 Philip thought of Bertha. At first it seemed year since he had lost her, and he wondered with dull ache in his heart where she could be after so long time.
 Then it seemed but an hour, so fresh was the wound III ms learC. IL was Qer place, that empty seat by his side, in this supreme moment of his desolation. She could com fort him in his loneliness, the most terrible crushing loneliness, that in the midst of a multitude. Perhaps he was weak, too weak for the stern acquisitions of bis destiny. Per- hapsthere was not enough of the sturdy ele- ment in his character He would rather have leaned on some other brave heart than stand out alone before the world, better formed for the gentle graces of friend than to wield undismayed the ponderous weapons of wealth and power. He would have been better to nurse the sick and comfort the fallen, than to be ordered to the front of the battle, where to be still is infamy, and to fight death to some pitied foe. And there was not one human being near or dear enough to him to instl one spark of new courage into his heart, or brighten by one smile of love the darkening desolation that seemed to have settled over his life. If Bertha had only waited another day she could not have gone. She would have staid and learned again for very pity to love him. 
 TO BE CoNTIN JED.