Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-05-07

inequality of condition is thrust ing itself into our very faces and must and will be explored and solved. It can never be reached through anarchy and blood. but only by the warm currents of educated love melting human selfishness away and the gentle fingers of pity at the worlds purse-strings. As man advances he must surely come to see that more than he wholesomely needs is only a care and weight to him and that in com mon decency it should go to those who need it We are all unclothed and family, why should we scheme and cheat and basely befool each other out of life's common heritageP'
 They all got down in Eden Park to see the sun set. The two elder ladies remained upon the hillside resting in a rustic seat, and still farther exploring the question suggested. Mrs. Gleason was in ferment lest such philosophy might strain and perhaps break the fine lines of aristooracy, and was rath- CT more ruffied than soothed when Mrs. Brayton thought that, while it might be fatal to the aristocracy of wealth, it would be the making of the aristocracy of virtue and brains. Then Mrs. Gleason was worried, too, that such scheme of equality would render the carrying forward of great wealth from generation to generation by one family impossible, and was but little modified when Mrs, Brayton offered the thought that perhaps that very thing was the vel tebra of the Kingship of Dollars, and should be broken; and further, that the bequeathing of wealth to one's offspring, in any case, was usually curse to them, since if they held to and augmented it they were left no commonality of feeling with the poor, and if they squandered it, as was 1 mostly the case, they generally went down in the wreck, diseased, and every way unfit for life.
 Mrs. Gleason looked discouraged in- 1 deed, as she tapped her shining boot upon the ground and gazed away where the canopy of smoke. here and there shot through with slanting sunshine, hung over the toiling city. Mrs. Bray ton leaned back and watched her with I a smile on her pleasant face. "Never { mind," she said, .'such goodness 1 among men will scarcely be popular in our day, nor perhaps during the lives of those soft hearted children dream ing up there, though hope it may" ! and she turned and waved her hand to I Celeste and John Earling where they sat upon the crown of the green ac- clivity.
 An! it is a deep world, as Celeste had said, and that which broods above 1 and moves it is Love itself; though not | always can its clear beams, turned ! aside by lowering shapes of greed and lust, come through the vulture-wings and touch us or shine through our deadened, glutted spirits into lovely \ action.
 To John Earling the touch of her l dress was sweet, and the light laying 1 of her hand upon hls, as she pointed to \ something in the landscape, filled him l with pleasure as clean as the sunshine. "Lookr' she said, ''what burst of sunshiner' and indeed the world was flooded divinely, as the great orb | swung down out of the silver-rimmed
 clouds and hung burning close above | the far off tree-tops. "It brings a sunset to me of long ago." she said;
 |" it seems so bright and definite in my memory, l suppose, because I was a child. It was when was little girl, | I remember, and mamma and I went from our home in Washington to Grandpa Snaer's in New York State.
 He lived on the upper Hudson, and
 upon that evening am speaking of,
 remember he took my hand and we l walked across a pasture west of the
 house, and from high swell of ground
 we watched the sun go down. He was | gray and bent, I remember, and not very strong; and when we had looked | long time at the light slanting along
 the hills. much as it does here, tears came into his eyes, and I asked hlm l why he cried. .'He will never come;
 I shall never see hiny' he said. We parted in wrath, and he will never come backr Then I asked him who
 he was speaking of and he said, re-
 member how mournfully: '1vyl, my
 only son and your mothers only | the West when he was boy, there
 where the sun is going, and have l never seen him since. Your mother
 was only baby when he left; oh!
 wish he had only been like her! had
 only been like herr Then remember
 cried, I hardly knew why, and the
 next morning when they went to
 waken my grandfather he was dead.
 shall never forget it, and often when
 look at the sun set, I wonder if the sun
 somewhere doesn't still go over that
 wanderer ere it reaches the western
 sear'
 In her absorption she did not notice
 how John Earling started in the midst
 of what she was saying, and now when
 she glanced up she only half con
 scio1sly saw that his face was white,
 as if great fear had crossed him, and
 that he was staring at her in a dazed
 way.
 ''Why," she began, with enauiring
 wonder. eff living, he is my only neal
 relative, save Mrs. Bower, of Open
 stone, you know!'
 :'Yes, yes." he stammered, the colol
 rushing back into his face, 'I do no
 wonder that you would like to know il
 he still lives. EI-should like tC
 know that, too," then more calmly
 Did not your mother remember