The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1891-06-10
Selected storm.
A Helping Hand.

There is an old saying that if dog
gets bad name, he might as well be
hung. And so he might. AS a matter
of fact, a reputation is the hardest thing
in the world to break away from.
And Mr.. Galespie's neighbors early
decided that he was cold and morose
and proud-because he was shy and
reticent and awkward, and found it most
agreeable to carry on his large charities
through his wife. She, also, always
brought people into his house when the
home had no need of company, and took
him into other homes when they had
need of him, until he never dreamed of
doing anything hospitable of himself.
This was all very well while the wife
lived, but one day death robbed Mr..
Galespie of his helper and go-between,
and left, instead, tiny morsel of
daughter, who was more innocent of
the ways of society than he. They
lived to themselves for number of
years, but just as the girl was growing
into sweet womanhoOd, and had be-
come a household magnet, drawing the
good of the outside world to her side,
death came again, and robbed Mr..
Galespie of his daughter, this time leav-
ing nothing in place of what he had
taken, except very sad heart-and L
will say, too, very soft one.
When he found himself quite alone,
the old man regretted more than ever
that his nature kept him from the lives
of his neighbors, which he would gladly
have touched; but it seemed now even
more impossible for him to break
through the reserve that had grown up
about him. When he tried, everyone
looked at him askance, as if they were
astonished, or, sadly, as if they were
thinking, "Trouble has weakened his
mind"; and so he drew each day closer
late soul was aching for something to
love and be tender of. None of the
poor inhabitants of the little manufac-
turing town where his mills stood
guessed that the man who owned the
entire village could be lonely. They
were unable to conceive the fancy that
gold fob might cover a sore heart.
But we have thought enough about
how Mr.. Galespie felt; we must think of
what he did.
For several afternoons in succession
he protested that he preferred to walk
home from his Office at the mills, and
when the coachman turned the corner
of Water street with the empty carriage,
he saw " out of the tail of his eye," as
he said afterward to the butler, his
master standing by little cottage di-
rectly opposite the factory, eagerly
scanning the remarkable bulletin that
hung from one of the upper windows.
1t was a sheet of coarse paper with
sentence upon it in large, irregularly
printed letters. One day it read, " Not
much worse -; another, A little bet
teri; several times simply Better"
and then, "Settin' up"
1t was not that the last announce
ment moved him more than the others,
but on the afternoon in which he read
it an invisible voice fluttered through
the window where it dangled in the
words of song that brought tears to
his eyes. 1t was an old Scotch ballad
that his daughter had sung to him early
every day for years
We Gamma leave the old folks now,
We'd better bide wee"
trilled the sweet voice. Mr. Galespie
darted inside the hall door, which was
open, as such doors always are in sum-
mer.
On went the voice, and on went the
lonely old man. He climbed flight of
stairs and came to another open door.
In the middle of bare-looking room
sat small boy with sleeping baby in
his arms, whose damp curls the song
was fluttering.
For few minutes the singer stared
silently at Galespie, with fright written
all over his thin face and in the protru-
sion of his soft blue eyes. Finally he
gasped:
sfAre you mad about that?" with a
finger turned in the direction of the
bulletin. " Ben has to go over before
Sissy's up mornin's, and she's ben sick
teethin', so let him know, quick's
find out, how she feels. He looks over
when he gets time-street's so narrer
he en- see; couldn't hear, you know, if
/ yelled, cuz the engines make SIGH a
noise. / didn't think you'd be mad on
account of ownin' the house."
g l am not mad" said Mr.. Galespie,
''but Pm awfully hot and tired. Can't
have a chair?"
"Wait minute till lay Sissy down,
an I'll take tn pail offer that one"
The boy disappeared into another
room, coming quickly back empty
handed. Mr.. Galepsie felt very I'M
comfortable under the searching glance
of his surprised eyes, but he did not
finch.
"You were humming favorite bal
lad of mine just now, and l came in to
see if you would sing it for me-"
What was it?''
CSC We'd Better Bide Vice."
"Of course l will. Do you want the
whole thing, or only verse;"
"The whole thing"
After he had finished singing, the
minstrel looked at Mr.. Galespie as if he
expected him to 60, but as there was
no appearance of departure, he said:
P'rhaps I'd better be maxim tn
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