Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1889-12-08

-hOICOVCIy tucIt WdS ITO CHANCE IOr MIN,
not one good opportunity. When at last
he had served his time, he met not a single
helping hand. He wandered here and
there, sometimes engaged as a workman,
again as laborer, but always pursued by
the ghost of his guilty past. When he
was too hungry he committed petty depre-
dations-he foraged," as he had done be-
fore in Algeria. More than once the hand
of the law had fallen heavily upon his
shoulder. Where was he two years ago?
In prison. And last winter? Also in
prison. Why was it that for the last three
days he had wandered in that strange
country district without being able to OBJ
tain days work in mid-harvest ? The
imprint of the prison was too apparent in
his whole person. And now he had spent
his last farthing, eaten his last crust
What was going to become of him? What
should he do?
Lost in those dark reflections, the man,
keeping always to the main road, reached
a crossing. In the center of the square
rose cross, a mission cross, bearing a
rudely-sculptured image of the Christ,
from which the rain had effaced the paint
and inscription. The impenitent outcast
glanced at it. shrugged his shoulders and
turned to the left.
Several hundred steps farther on he saw
handsome, large country mansion, sep
arated from the road by lawn and wide
ditch. A young woman, arrayed in a
dainty blue gown, and carrying large
parasol, to protect her from the already
burning rays Of the sun, appeared upon
the steps and called little boy who was
playing on the grass with a large New
foundland dog.
The child ran to his mother, while the
dog, with sudden fury, sprang in three
bounds to the edge of the ditch and barked
loudly at the suspicious looking pedes-
trian.
Shaking his fist threateningly at that
abode of opulence, where even the rare
exotics betokened wealth and luxury, the
prison-bird was seized with sudden fierce
desire for solitude, and plunged into by
path through the fields.
Thus it was that he found himself in
that vast plain, that morning in June, in
the midst of the tall, ripening sheaves,
his limbs sinking with fatigue, and his
vitals gnawed with hunger-alone, lost,
and despairing!
Suddenly cocks lusty growing broke
the oppressive silence. A house must be
somewhere at hand, and he was so hungry
So much the worse for those who dwelt
therein! He would go there and beg,
steal-yes, even kill, if necessary He
twirled his heavy stick, quickered his
pace, and at the end of the path, which
turned abruptly, found himself before a
little farmhouse Boldly he crossed the
yard, scattering the fowl wildly to right
and left, reached the low, thatched cabin
and tried the knob of the door, which re-
sisted his touch.
"Helloa" cried he at the top of his voice.
Then, receiving no answer, repeated the
call three times.
Still no reply. The inmates had gone,
no doubt, to work in the fields.
TIE vagabond enveloped his hand in his
old felt hat, broke a pane of glass with a
blow of his fist, felt for the lock, which
opened on the inside, and finding that 1t
was not locked with a key, pushed the bolt
and entered the house.
He found himself in low room, evil
IDENTIFY the only inhabited one of the place,
for in it were the bed, fire. place, feur-bin,
dresser, and table, wherein lay loaf of
bread, kitchen-knife, and an open pack
age of tobacco. There was also the usual
heavy oaken closet in which the peasant
conceals his treasure - his handful of
crowns or louis-in some old sack or stock
ing.
For the first time in his life this man
had committed the crime of house break
ing, and had run the risk of going to the
convict prison. Oh, well, who cared? He
might as we'll go the whole way.
Quickly taking the knife from the table
he approached the closet to pry it open.
But, as he raised his hand, a paper, sim ply
framed in dark wood and hanging quite
near the closet, attracted his attention.
Mechanically, he cast his eyes toward it
and read the first of these printed words
NSeventy-ffth Regiment of Infantry"
His hand dropped inertly to his side,
and he read on.
1t was certificate of discharge to one
Jules Matthew Dubois, Corporal Bugier of
the Second Company of the Third Bsttal-
ion.
So he had been about to rob man of
his own regiment Not of his day, to be
sure, the date on the paper was more re-
cent; but what matter-he was one of the
regiment
With deep emotion he stood hesitating
to do the cowardly act.
Glow silly | am |" he murmurcd.
Suddenly he glanced toward the table,
where lay the loaf of bread and the to-
bacco, and the poor fellow quickly formed
his resolution. He hastily cut the loaf
Of bread in two, drew his pipe from hi,
pocket and filled it (no harm, surely, to
borrow such trife from comrade), and
then, rushing from the house, resumed
his tramp through the fields, munching
his bread as he went along, and reached
again the main road, determined to try
once more the battle for an honest liveli-
hood.
Hardened, hungry, destitute and des-
perate as was this unfortunate offspring of
misfortune and misery, there was still
spark OF honor in his nature that
Ill the vicissitudes of his rough
md unhappy life had not eItinguished.
And many there are like him in the
world-wandering hither and thither,
Iorely tempted, but restrained from the
commission of serious crime by the men,
,ry of some happier time, when life was
air and hope was young.