The Telegraph-courier. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1888-1946, 1888-10-25
CHAPTER XIX.
TROUBLE In A TRUE HOME.

a olOW 0uu WEARY Walk udu MT. Gl0aV10
from the station to his house. It was after
sunset, dark and cold, as he turned in at the
gate. The house was dirnly lighted, and no
one save the Newfoundland dog came to
greet him at the door. He did not hear his
daughter singing as she was accustomed at
evening. There were no pleasant vsices no
light and cheerful steps in the rooms. All was
silence. The i'll news had preceded him. His
wife without word fell on his bosom and
wept. Clara kept her seat, trying in vain,
while her lips quivered and her eyes dimmed.
to fix her attention upon the magazine she
had held rather than read. At length Mr..
Sleavin led his wife to the sofa and sat beside
her, holding her hand with tenderness that
was as soothing as it was uncommon. Pros
perity had not hardened his heart, but bust
ness had preoccupied it; though his manner
had been kind, his family had rarely seen in
him any evidence of feeling. Misfortune had
now brought back the rule of his better
nature, and the routine life he had led was at
an end.
"My dear wife, what have most dreaded
in this crash is the pain, the anxiety. and the
possible discomfort it would bring to you and
to Clara. For myself I care nothing. TIL a
Altered
circumstances cheerfully."
Sand SO we shall, father" said Clara. owe
shall be happy with you anywhere"
Gone thing, am sure, you can never lose. .
said Mrs. Sleavin-"and that is an honorable
NAME"
II have tried to do my duty. gave IN
only what l found must But my duty is
not yet done"
"Why, father?o
"My creditors have claims which regard
as sacred, and which must be paid, ultimate
ly at whatever sacrifice"
won't the property at the store be enough
when you can sell it?" asked Mrs. Sleayin.
"You have spoken of the quantity of goods
you had on, hand"
II can't say, my dear. It depends upon
how much time [ have. If I could have eff
fected sales should have been safe"
"If they have the goods won't thew be
satisfied" asked Clara
"You don't understand, my daughter. that
all have is at their command. If the prom
erty does not iquidate the debts, then the
house, the carriage and horses, the furniture.
the
The possible surrender Of all that had made
life pleasant to his family was not to be con
sidered without emotion, and Mr.. Sleayin
found himself unable to finish the sentence.
"Dear fathern exclaimed Clara. seizino
and kissing his hand, as she sat down at his
feet-Syou are just and noble. We could
not be selfish or complaining when we think
of you. Let everything go. I love the dear
old house, the garden that has been your
pride, the books and pictures; but we shall be
nearer together-shant we, papa?-in a cot
tage. If they do sell my piano. can
still sing to you; nobody can take that pleas
ure from us.
"Bless you, my daughter! feel relieved
almost happy. Your cheerful heart has
given me new courage. Perhaps we shall not
have to made the sacrifice dread What
ever happens, my darling, your piano shall
be kept. [ will sell my watch first You,
music will be twice as dear in our DAYS Of
adversely"
eyes papa-if we keep the piano, 1 car
give lessons"
"You give lessons? Nonsense! But get IN
pussy; here, sit on my knee'
He fondled her like child. and thew al
smiled through their tears-heavenly smiles
blissful tears! full Of feeling Of which the
heart in prosperous days has no conception
zone thing has happened to-day said Mr..
Sleavin, "that shall never forget-an actor
so generous and self-forgetful that it makes
one think better of mankind. I remember
hearing preacher say that no family knew
all their capabilities of love until death had
taken one Of their number--not their love
for the dead, but their deeper affection 70,
each other after the loss. suppose every
calamity brings it's compensations in develop
ing noble traits of character; and It'll almos
an offset to failure itself to have such ar
overhowing feeling as this-to know
that there are SO many sympathiz
ing hearts. But what I was GOING
to speak of was the conduct of my clerk
Jameson. He is a fine ow,-rather more
given to pictures and books and music than
is good for a business man; but with clear
head, mans energy, and a woman's heart.
He has a widowed mother, whom he sup
ports. never knew he had any property
till to-day. 1t seems his father left Sic. 600.
He knew that my situation was desperate,
and yet he offered me his all. 1t would only
have put off the day Of failure; but was self
ish enough to be willing to take it. He had
deposited the securities for the amount with
Norcross, who first borrowed money in the
street by pledging them, and then failed to-
day. Jameson has lost his all; but his inten-
ton was as noble as if he had saved me. ]
shall never forget it; and as long as I have q
dollar he shall share it,"
aWhat noble fellow!" said Mrs. Seavin.
9How pleasant to think that in this terrible
scramble for life there are some who have
not lost their humanity, nor trampled down
their finer feelingsw
Il couldn't but contrast this kindness on
! the part of a clerk, for whom have never
done anything beyond paying him his we'll
earned salary, with the conduct of Mr.. Tril.
lion. | gave him my Endorsement repeated.
ly, and assisted him in procuring loans
when he was not SO rich as he is now.
know he has resources, ready money-money
that he does not need for any outstanding
debts, but which he must keep for specula-
tion. But he refused to do anything.
Couldn't, he said, really; times were hard
everybody wanted to borrow; coaldnt lend
to everybody; hadn't the funds; much as he
could do to stand up himself There was nc
sincerity in his look. saw his soul slzulkine
away behind his subterfuges like spider il
the depths of his flimsy web. He seems to
thrive, however, in the midst Of general ruin.
I've no doubt he lives like a vulture. on the
dead anu dying"
us MI. Trillion that short man. father
with the cold eyes and gruff voice, and the