Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-05-08

I walked away from him. 1 did not turn to see, but I knew that he was looking after me. Near the ehurchyard was a lightly tim | bered wood. Thither I wandered, encom- l passed by silence, and throw myself upon 1 the ground at the foot of a tree. Taking
 some bread from my pocket, I ate it to keep
 life within me.
 | Ordinarily when I was accosted by a
 stranger my chief anxiety was to fly from | the neighborhood; but something chained
 me to this spot. It may have been the voice singing in the church, which I wished Ito hear again; 1t may have. been the manifest kindness Of the stranger who had accost,i ! me; but had I questioned myself, I wou. Ii, | have acknowledged neither of those as the cause of my lingering near the house of | worship. When evening came was still there.
 1 Twas not at so great distance from the church that could not hear the singing at the evening service; true, 1t came faintly 10 my ears, but my senses wore abnormally sharp ened. Amid all the voices detected that which had stirred me in the morning and was glad when l heard 1t and sorry when it ceased. They were the first huma nixing son. | sations had experienced for many months. The service ended, and all was again silent. It was ane evening, and resolved to pass the night in tho wood, and recommence my wanderings in the early morning. Ireckoned upon complete solitude, but 1t was not to be mine.
 Three persons strolled in the direction of the spot upon which was lying. and stopped within Il short distance of mo. A clump of trees and the gathering darkness concealed me from their observation. One of the per- sons began to speak. and I recognized his voice. It was that of the mao who had spo- ken to me so kindly in the churchyard. I raised myself into sitting posture, and bent forward to see. In ths mans company were woman and young girl, whose face could not distinguish, and uhosa torn reminded mo oi Eunice. The father was telling them of his meeting with me. and the manner in which l had met his kind words.
 "He is a stranger here," the man said "I have never seen his face before. Indeed I saw but little of it now, 1t was so covered with tangled hair. Poor fellowl Some deep trouble is weighing upon him."
 Perhaps, father." said the young girl, che was hungry"
 II think not, wns the fathers answer, tor he would have behaved differently. Hunger Is sharp monitor, my dear. He was not hungry he was defiant. I thought at first he must be q beggar, but was mistaken. He looked to me more like a hunted animal than a human being."
 "A man escaped from prison. perhaps" suggested the mother
 ''It may be; but if so, long time must have elapsed since he made his escape; other wise his hair would not have been so abund- ant. Before I spoke to him noticed in his ayes (ho was not aware that was observing him) look of singular refinement, and am sure that at some period of his life he has moved in good position. Perhaps he had happy home, like ours; perhaps he had wife and child whom he loved as love you. To have enjoyed such happiness and to have lost u-ah, my dears, 1t is sad thought! If that poor mans heart were laid bare before us we should see it throbbing with suffering unmerited mayhap, but likely, too, to have been created by error or sin. Should meet him again I will strive to learn his story. and will help him if he will let me-"
 They passed on, with further words of pity for me. I waited till the earth was shrouded in darkness, and then I fled from the wood. There was terror in the idea of meeting that kind of heart again.
 From the gloomy months could pluck other records, but they would not help my story. More and more insensible did I be- some to influences of a humanizing nature: harder and harder grow my heart and there same periods of savage dellrium when, in my desolation, raised my clinched hand heav- snward, and cried, "There is no 4od l" For the bitter question forced itself upon me. Why should be thus punished2 The evil within me was not of my creating the sleep- ing instinct of savagery which had led me to the unconscious committal of deed of blood was not of my planting. In my waking hours | had lived good life. and had held deserv- edly an honored and beloved position in my home. was kind to the poor, and my heart was always open to the ca Il of charity Why, then, should be compelled to wander through tho world more like hunted animal than a human being?" If there was God, and he was good. would ho have permitted it? In the peril of those thoughts lay deeper dan ger than that which sprang from the sin which weighed upon my soul.