Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1890-01-17
THE BROKER.

She looked out into the hall in her new
wrapper. She shook her dust cloth through
the grating, and inspected the yard of the
large three story house. Young wives were
standing about in the hail. resting their arms
upon the banster, expecting their husbands.
1t was about noon time.
Her husband came home first. A thick
set, bald headed little old man, with liver
colored face, staggered slowly towards her.
They scarcely noticed each other; then they
both looked out into the yard together.
"Why do you come home so earlyl You
always come at a time when dinner is not
ready! Is there no businessi" the woman be-
gan. The man did not answer; he was look
ing out watching his youngest child "A beau
tiful blonde boy, frolcking and playing in
the dark, inh )spitable asphalted yard.
And the woman again spoke.
''What are you looking ata"
AT this yard! | shall probably never see
it again am sick, very sick; | shall never
be well man again! Take the business sign
from my door"
He cast one last glance out into the yard,
then, with trembling hand he unscrewed the
sig from the door, the zinc plate on which
was inscribed in gilt letters Josef Gross,
Broker" Then he went in and went to rest
To restl He closed his eyes, and from under
the compressed lids one old, solitary tear
stole out.
'What is the matterl" asked the woman.
1.-The heart-the old trouble. On the street
was again seized with a spasm. | fell to
the ground, and a servant led me home /
knew that it would end like this; my foot
pains me violently, as if boiling water were
flowing through my veins instead of blood
Prepare my bed"
n, ~,
there is nothing the matter with youn-
Nothing but that must die! What will
become of youg'
"Of the grl9'
"Of youl"
"And of the little childn-
A vanly suppressed, low moan forced itself
up from his broad chest. The little child
asked in IA pampered voice.
Papa, what have you brought for me2'
"Nothing!"
Then his daughter came in. His oldest
child. The image of the mother. A tall
figure with berry mouth and curved eye
brows. She was not yet eighteen, but the
pretty little pink dimple under her chin was
already deepening As they were thus stand
ing side by side, the daughter and the mo-
ther, one might have taken them for a pair
of sisters.
And as the broker looked at them, first a
wild, then dull, despair seized him. What
was to become Of his wife, what of his mar
RAG able daughter, if he should die! The
wife could perhaps, find bread and shelter
with one or the other of II er relatives, but
the daughteri How is she to find a husbandi
Who will marry her without money! No
body Or perhaps some coarse, uncouth me-
chanic, which is still worse How his Oldest
intelligence, has not improved one jot: a
thoroughly good hearted fellow, but who
perhaps II this very moment is playing cards
somewhere, for no one has had much as a
glimpse of LA since yesterday. And what,
finally, is to become of him who is almost as
near to him as his wifel What is to become
of his youngest, 5-year-od son, his splendid
boyi OF this too delicate, spoiled idoi God
knows what he, had life been spared, would
have made OF him.
But it cannot be; the broker feels that he
must die. Once, twice more the spasms of the
heart seized nm more violently than ever be-
fore; then the feet began to SWELL and it
came, what he had expected with mortal
dread, but still prepared, one condemned
to death expects the downward swoop of the
ak that has been lowering over his head
dropsy
His father and his two elder brothers had
diel from this disease The broker had OBJ
served the beginning of it and was acquainted
with the conditions that served to hasten the
catastrophe - the exciting va-banque game
with life. He was present when his father
one day, during brokers' transaction on the
exchange, broke down. He knew that the
consequences of an unhappy speculation
changed one of his brothers from "A vigorous
a l,,l
and all their dying began like his.
The image of approaching death would not
have been 50 terrible to him We're it not that
he must die now, must leave his family now,
when he had not a penny to call his own;
now, when he was not even able to meet his
interest for the next quarter In several
months things would change thoroughly.
Then he would procure money, if he had To
dig it out of the ground.
The sick man is alone in his room. 1t is
dusk. Through the open door he can see
the guests sitting in the parlor. In the
CHEEKY, home like CLEAN of the hanging lamp
the faces look so friendly SO full of love. His
daughter is sitting at the table and is pouring
tea into her neighbor's cup. The strong, sun
burned young man thanks her, smiling defer
entially. There is IA peculiar exposition about
the lips of the young girl when she addresses
the young man, ana now and thel flaming
red foods her face and snow white neck
And the young man listens to and answer.
only her And as the broker looks at thi.
pair of lovers, his heart contracts still more
They can never belong TO each other. Bu
if he had lived, or had left fortunei
The sick man is entirely forgotten. And h,
forcibly suppresses his groans and signs il
order not To interrupt the conversation il
the next room, not to cause the slightest dis
cord in their low laughter. In the laughter
of his wife and daughter, which only to'
soou Will change into loud sobbing Int
weeping and lamenting as soon as they hea
that all this splendor, their high living, wa
empty ieluson, their wealth a many hued
hollow soap bubble; when the furniture, tn
r.lais hnlr
81 .rf'u0ii1fT
an.0I 40 lmn