Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1888-03-31

| His hungry eyes deUOufed Berthd's beauty.
| The eyes of the two women met. Their
wills met and struggled for the mastery In
| that moment. Undisguised hate was in one
| face, lofty contempt in the other. There had
| been one gentle, wistful expression in Bertha's
| face as she first ahghted, but there was no
| trace of it now. She had drawn herself up
! to her full height, so that the other woman
| seemed like a child before her, and her hand,
as it fell to her side, opened outward in
| gesture of disdain for the creature her father
had chosen for his wife. 1t was hardly
| second before her rare lips parted. They at
least had not changed. Jane WINGED for fear
of some bitter taunt. She had learned how
| terrible blow well trained tongues can give;
but the words were only some polite common
place; the tone-well, it caused Mr.. Filings
worth to glance critically at his wife. She
| seemed vulgar in his eyes for the first time
Jane tried TO brazen it out, but her face only
took on an expression of sugnacious insignif-
canoe
'What was it you were sayingw resumed
Mr.. Philbrck as Philip overlook him.
81 had forgotten
"Speaking of businessY suggested the
other, and then continued himself, not dis
pleased at an extra turn. Business, say
is heartless and cruel as death. 1t is pitiless
and pity is the noblest Of emotions; it is UNI
generous, it is unfair, we have had enough of
it when it grinds so terribly"
Mr. Philbrick thought his TRADE would
surely fetch an enthusiastic retort. But
Philip only walked on by his side in silence;
he seemed intent on some beautiful masses of
cloud just behind the sun, as he sped on his
way to the west.
Cant afford it, can't afford it," went on
the old gentleman, gesticulating with his
forefnger, 'that is what You would say,
presume; Of course you can't il the upper
| classes waste the wealth they do. | tell you
there is no sense OF excuse for man spend
ing ten and twenty and fifty thousand dol
lars year. Why, it is n good workman in
your mill who earns ten thousand dollars ina
lifetime, adding all his days. wages together.
There ought to be more fairness about these
things. Such men as you, Philip Breton, get
! too nuch--nore than any reasonable creature
could want. Now, you ought to go right to
worll and distribute your surplus mean
your real surplus-back where it came from,
Gtnong the POOR 1t takes but very little
money to buy what can make a life comfort
able and complete. Tho rich are always com
planning that they don't enjoy life more than
the middle classes, but they manage to waste
what would make a thousand wretched homes
happy without one pang Of conscience"
"But what do you want me to dor asked
Philip in establishment.
The ola gentleman's face was flushed with
enthusiastic.
"Why | want you TO take hold, and begin
to make things equal, by paying back your
surplus in oAe form or another. Give them
better homea to live in. Shorten their hours
50 they can have a little existence besides
deudgery; pay them better wages
Philip looked distressed and doubtful.
lle had thought the subject over carefully
and believed he had done a great deal already
for his poor. His philanthropic friend would
turn the whole world topsey turyey
"Why, you know what tho books say
that giving so much would spoil all the spirit
and patience Of the working classes
's1dere arguments devised to soothe the
consciences Of the rich, p explained MIR. Phil
brick with a grand air. Though there is
such thing as unwise benevolence, en-
/ couraging paupers and beggars; but man
who works every day Of his life isn't beg
gar Your father made good investment
| that brings you in say a quarter million
year That is rather above what You pay
\ your best workman, but il doesn't hurt your
manliness any, my boy. The poorest paid
hand in your factory works a great deal
harder than you; you needn't DO afraid Of
4 degrading his manhood until he gets quarter