The San Saba news. [volume] (San Saba, Tex.) 1873-1966, 1889-09-20
.eWere ron uuIftr q tbe bnrglarrln

1 was. SIT. II WIS my LuSb NAhhS'
The easy gain looking tempting, and 1
fell. needed money; but there is no ex-
cuse, 1 deserved the punishment. Those
awful years, sir, gave me time to refiec-
ton, and I determined that when | got
out, with Gods help to pick myself up.
It's been hard; cruelty, fearfully hard, bui
1 haven't fallen again. I'm an homes
man in my heart, sir, if the world
acknowledge it"
s'But why didn't you tell me this when
you camel 1t would have been better. y
81 suppose it would, sir. But 1 was
too weak. needed work so badly, an
if you had turned me away then, why
-
''What, Johnl'
''Never mind, if you please, -sirs
didn't turn me of.
Every well, John, I'll not
But you said you had a special Z,
in coming to me- Can you tell me
John Dorker arose, laid his /
the chair, and facing the Judge
pressively:
500 you remember, sir, what you saio
when you sentenced mef"
''No, do not"
''Wen. sir, your words burnt them
selves into my heart as if they'd been
sparks. used to fancy I saw them writ
ten in fiery letters at night upon the black
wall of my cell. You spoke feelingly,
sir, like you pitied me, and that's what
made them take such hold on me.
They were: Young man, you have set
your foot on a dangerous path. The way
of crime never leads upward, always
down, down to the unknown depths.
The pure sunlight of heaven never smiles
upon it. 1t is crowded with wrecks of
noble lives. When you tread it, you
leave mother, true friends, light, peace,
heaven and Coo behind you. on are
going to prison. In the quiet years you
shall spend there, look over this lie of
yours, and think if you can afford to
spend the smallest possible portion Of it
on this path. Come out u pure man.
You viii still be young, with much of
your life before you; many year to be
useful and good in, and to retrieve this
false step. Let me say from my heart,
young man, don't blight your life. ~
He dashed the tears from his eyes,
and proceeded:
"NIy mother sat weeping behind me,
sir, as l stood at the rail. was her
only support. God alone knew how she
was to live during those years. Your
words were knife-thrusts, sir. 1 did
have to leave her, friends, peace, heaven
and the God she had so earnestly taught<
me to pray to. And I did reflect, sir,
those quiet years, and 1 came out pur
man. God knows, how I've tried not t s.
let that false step blight my life. But
wherever 1 went, some one spread the
truth: Employing that man, that John
Dorker; why, he's convict
81 became desperate; a temptation
stared me in the face I felt myself
weakening. Starvation, gloom, despair,
a broken hearted mother were about me,
and l vavered, sir, when a thought
came: Surely, surely, the Judge who
spoke those words would help me; he
wouldn't turn me away And 1 came.
1t was my last chance. Too much de
pended upon my getting work, sir, to
risk telling you my story. But now I'm
found out, and I'm ready for your de-
cision. Can you trust a convicted
burglar in your house? VIII you give
me triall If not, III 90 away and try
It again, sir, but I don't know"
Judge Parker sprang up and warmly
grasped the trembling hand.
Trust you, John9 Give you triall
You have been tried, and again sentence
you, John Dorker. to five years in my
service, in my most earnest help, in my
best effort to place you on the road to
prosperity. God bless you'll"
And when the sentence was served,
John Dorker was an honest and useful
eitizen,7-X aekes Blade.