Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-05-24

who had performed tho ceremony, and who was stubbornly ready to swear to ik
 "The doctor says there's a possible chance for my sight. Ned, said Noel, as soon as the presence of the visitor was made known to the blind man.
 "That's good news, indeed" replied Ned; "and who knows but you may re- turn from Philadelphia able to see your friends as of old"
 "Ah that's joyous thought, Ned, but to tell you the truth, lad, I have not much hope. It seems to me as if the long night had set in for which there is no dawning this side of the grave. But I'll bear it Rravely, whatever it be, and trust my good wife and my dear children will show equal courage. An, Ned, lad, in all this darkness I am buoyed up by one great thought, and that is that you are our friend. Friends that one may tie to are scarce these days" continued Noel, speaking in low, firm voice, that was free from emotion; "but it gladdens me in my blindness that my wife and chil- dren have some one that they may seo when am not near, without fear of re- proach or scandal. tell you, Ned, that's great thought, but we never realize it until we are helpless. When a man is so stricken down that he is unable to raise an arm in defense of his dear ones, what comforting thing it is to feel that there is some brave, unselfsh, brotherly heart in the world to whom they can go in their hour of sorrow, and who will not wrong them ill thought, or word, or deed. If all the world could only realize this there would be less inhumanity, less bit terness, less betrayal of sacred trusts and fewer broken hearts,"
 The sobbing of his wife and Edith at. tracted Noers attention, and he paused in his remarks. Not being able to see the effect of his words, he could not dis cern the gathering storm of sorrow ill the faces of his dear ones, and he was first made aware of their grief when they could no longer stifie their sobs. Ned Newcomb was a man of tender sensibilities, and he could not help be. ing affected by this touching scene. More especially was he impressed with the sublime faith in his honor, to which
 the blind man had given expression, and
 he resolved mentally that, come what
 might, he would never prove unworthy Of that exalted opinion.
 "Noel, The said, taking the blind man
 by the hand, "I fear you regard me alto-
 gether too highly. Such attributes as you have, in your generous heart, en. dowed me with, are indeed rare in this
 world; but I will say that, whether you
 be present or absent, should your dear
 ones ever stand in need of such friend ship as can show them, they will never
 call on Ned Newcomb in vain." "God bless you, lad It does me good
 to hear these words from your manly
 heart, and now my mind will be much
 easier while am away" The hour for Noels departure was near
 at hand. There was carriage at the
 door to take himself and his wife and
 Edith and Ned Newcomb to the station,
 and everything was in readiness. Noel asked the time, and, on ascertain
 ing that he had yet few minutes to spare, he asked Edith to sing him one or two verses of song that had long been
 favorite with him. It was Abt's we'll
 known 70, ye Tears"
 Edith pleaded that there was not suf. | flcient time, but Noel insisted that she
 sing one verse at least, "because," he said, "never before was tpe theme so
 much in harmony with my feelings as at | present"
 Ever ready to comply with her fathers l wishes, Edith seated herself with q heavy heart at the organ in the little par. Tor, and with great effort to smother
 her grief, sang the following words of the | well-known song:-
 70 ye tears o ye tears am thankful that ye run,
 | Though ye come from cold and dark, ye shall glitter in the
 The rainbow cannot cheer us. if the showrs re. | fuse to fall,
 | And the eyes that cannot weep are the saddest eyes of all
 There Is light upon my path, there is sunshine In my heart,
 And the leaf fruit of life shall not utterly dc part;
 Ye restore to me the freshness and the bloom oi long ago.
 | o ye tears happy tears I am thankful that ye How"
 The last words of the song fell tremb l ling from Edith's lips in a rush of grief
 that held the listeners spell-bound | She could not sing another line then foI | all the world. Her heart was bursting l and she bowed her head on the music be- fore her, and mingled her own bitter | tears with the words of Abt's pathetic | song. No one in that little group but herself knew all her cause for sorrow | To her there was mockery in the words
 "There is light upon my path, there i: l sunshine in my heart" and she felt ut
 terly crushed by the burden of her ir
 resistible, inexpresslble grief. Instead
 of the promise of the song, it seemed tc
 Edith that there was gloom upon her path
 and sorrow in her heart; but she did find
 relief in tears, and her spirit was some 1 what lighter when she put her hand iI that of her father, to lead him to the car | C;oro o~a fo1< h;o lxis ,,roy, hnr ohoolz