Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-02-09
BY CHARLES I. BELLAMY.
Copvrighted by the Author, and puDnsnse
 by arrangement with him.

BY CHARLES J. BELLAMY. Copyrighted by the Author, and publishes
 by arrangement with him.
 us at what we can be got fors If we could haggle with ye, and hang off the way little ready cash lets man do, there might be some sense in it. But you never let us get enough ahead for that. It's work or go hungry with ~us The poorer we gets, the tighter ye can squeeze us, and sometimes wonder why ye gives us as much as ye do. l pose man might live on a little less. Ana o's all business, as ye say"
 Philip had seated himself, but he said nothing He had given the man the priv ilege of his tongue, and he did not seem dis posed to stop him.
 ''Is the right price of thing what man Il give for it? If they had the money, men would give $1 ,OOO, 900 for a breath of air, 9hen they're stified. Would it be right to ,ump off the air, and then let it on at s1 ,GO0, 90 a breathing? If you was drowning, ou'd give $1 ,OOO, ,O00 to be saved if it was 'nly to hold out a pole to yer. Is that fair rice for holdin' out pole! We're starvin' unless we can get bite to eat. Is it any more right to bargain with us for life of lard work, for just enough to live on? man wants somethin' more than food. He wants 70 send his children to school, to get loafin' ilour now and then, to make himself some tilin' besides brute He wants-he wants iome such things and chances as you have. Why, squire, we're all men trgether." The mans eyes looked across at Philip with a vague wistfulness, as if he were thinking of he beautiful possibilities of life far all irudgeIy and want
 But what is there to dol" exclaimed Philip in all impatient tone that put to flight Ill the workman's foolish fancies The young mans heart seemed changed to flint. ''You rlon't want to be objects of charity, do you!"
 John Graves strengthened his arms along che table; then he stood up.
 ''Charity! Well, no, not such charity as picks creature up today as soft as baby, and drops him tomorrow like dog. But if payin' yer help enough of yer gain so they can know what life is-if that is charity, as you call it, give it to us. Ye needn't be so precious fraid of hurtin' the laboring classes, IS they call 'em, by treatin' lem too well. They're sinkin' every day lower and lower, and lots of fellows in specs keep warnin' you not to spoil 'en, not to hurt their pride, or break their spirit by givin' lem something As if kindness ever hurt any human soul. Not that would call 1t charity; they earns very mite yell ever give 'em.''
 s'But if the mills or employers don't make such gains as you seem to take for grant ad"-
 s'If there ain't money made, why, nobody .,an find no fault not to get big pay. All mean is when money is made, and that's pretty often, we ought to have some share ill it.''
 Don't go John, I want to ask you"-
 q must; asked out for today" and the Iof%1 s%0 r1I,s1 after his last visitor had gone, Philip sat with his eyes fixed on the door knob in in tense abstraction. Was he angry at the audacity of the common laborer? When he pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, running his hands through his hair, he made one exclamation:
 sHow blind." But whom he meant, whether his class or the laborers, did not appear from his tone or from the bitter smile on his lips John Graves would have told in a moment that the young proprietor meant no good to his help. The man had had a glimmer of hope that Philip Breton might only be waiting for an opportunity, but this interview had dispelled it from his mind.
 It was some little time afterwards that Philip left his counting room and made his way up the street. He was dressed in som berest black, and his silk hat was subduee with a wide band of crape But his dres was no more melancholy than his face When under pressure of business, onewoule not have noticed it so especially, but the in stant he was thrown back upon himself, hi face became as sad and hopeless as the face O. the most wretched laborer ill his mill. H. was tasting the most bitter dregs in life, h. thought. What soul could be more crushed than his: The time was when it would hav been impossible for him to see a human crea 1 ture suffer without a thrill of sympathy. l would have seemed a cruel and unnatura stroke of fortune, which it was for him t 1 prevent or cure. But ,.e had learned better l he thought. Suffering was common to all
 there was no good of trying to patch up thi 1 life or that; the terrible disease was foreve l at work. Conditions made but little differ
 ence; rich and poor, high and low, agonize
 together over some form of broken hope
 some unsatisfied hunger
 l The chapel door stood open, and he stoppe | and looked in. It was here Bertha and b
 were to have been married. And it woul 1 have been before this-but now. He saw th
 place where they would have stood together l The church was empty and he walked softl
 in, as if afraid of disturbing the ghosts of hi
 dead hopes, who haunted yet, perhaps, tl
 sacred spot they glorified in all the dreams
 his early manhood. He walked wearily u
 the echoing aisle and threw himself into
 seat. He bowed his head upon the back
 the pew ill front of him. Had he no shan
 to come to the rescue of his broken hear
 would he grieve forever over woman tn,
 had become another mans wife? She he
 called on the laws of the land for her prote
 tion; he had @no right to even think of h. ] now. She was shut away from him foreve
 It had become sin for him now to long f, her, though she had been so nearly his ON
 wife. There was no place in the world f unmated lovers like him. If she had n married that man! How strange that he h. heard nothing of that marriage; her note h. not mentioned it, and no one had spoken
 it since. Why, his belief in her purity was absolute he had not even thought to questi'
 her marriage, and now it was like a gull
 thing, that he permitted himself to enterta | for moment terrible fears. What vengean would be stern and relentless enough for hi vho had wrecked the noblest womanhood i he world, who had sullied purity like
 .ngel's, and insulted sacred dignity Ii 3ertha's9 Oh, it could not be; no man arth could have been so bold, so impiol ! l. .Io,,, T.; o had hofsOrnn