Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-07-24
more could they do, having given him

more cOukH LnSy uos nAfAAB BATSH hAIA
up to God2
After all, it was not very joyous
departure that Monday morning in the
September glory.
The boy could not quite exult as he
had anticipated. The mother, with her
last few tokens of love that can never
cease to care for its own; tokens
wrought with clumsy, eager fingers,
and homely with the style of the hill
country, and the last trembling en-
brace. The father silent as they logged
to the village station, as if his great
heart halted midway between his love
and indignation. For it was FOOLS
errand, was it not? A headstrong in
clination to desert a good home and Its
duties for a whim- But his boy had
not run away at least, and he would
speed him to short folly and to quick
and sure return. Even the dog protest
ed; and believe as, it touched the boys
heart most of all, as with frantic skurry
he bayed the train away.
Well, well, the great town opened its
arms and took the young man in, as
the myriad lamps of night laughed and
winked at his conceit, twinkled and
winked and joined hands down the
long boulevards of darkness, till they
seemed to change to fiery serpents with
many a coil kissing. Here comes an
other. What shall we do with him?'
And now the dull roar of the streets
gave answer: eve know what to do
with him" To all of which the boy re-
piled: Have not read all about it3 /
shall know what to do with myself. !
come to prey, not to be preyed upon.
- 80 orrotv1 hof
one is not quite so confident, standing
in the actual presence of the vast me-
tropolis, as among the mountain paths,
looking thitherward. The city opened
its jaws and took him in.
It is not for us to tell all that the city
did with the aimless and pitiful fool.
He was not without a welcome. Many
welcomed him. He was strong, and
could give much strength away. His
veins were full. and it took many
moons to suck them dry. He was
mountain fed, and his fat wasted slow.
". But the vampires were many, the
fires were kept burning, and Gods laws
were enforced.
We saw the end this summer. 1t was
In this wise. We were riding down
| from the Tip-top house as the sun went
| down, ana SaU DeSlQe buS AOlutICIOus
| driver. AS we stopped to untrig the
| wheels in a farmhouse yard, an ole
| man sat by the wall, his white hail
| roseate in the days farewell, and un-
| utterable sadness in his fine old face
| A few neighbors loitered about the
| tidy gateway, and cheap Grape knot
| luttered at the door beneath the porch
| "a death here, driver?"
| Just the same as elsewhere, sir.
And we were silently attentive at his
reply, while he went on to explain.
"You see, sir. the city had him about
a year. He had good time; too good
| The doctors wrote from the hospital
His father went after him. They
thought the mountain air would revive
him. But the fool hath said In hi:
heart there is no God, and"
"And driver, the city ground him W
and spit him out"
Eyes, sir. They have the tools *
grind men with down there, I reckon.
We ratified on down the same stony
highway traversed by the New Eng
land boy one little year before; and we
burned to whisper his story, as warn
ing, to youth whom we know of in {
happy country home. Heaven bles:
him as he reads.-Harkley Harker, II
| N Y Weekly.