Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-04-25

''He's no right to let them be nuisance TO
decent folk, said Adam.
Lets get out of the row." said the lodger.
All right" said Adam. "A stroll will do Us
good"
But when they got outside there was chill
ing drizzle OF annoying rain; the night, too, was
raw.
''Horrid weather." said Adam.
killing-quite killing" said the lodger.
shouldn't think it was very good to be out"
said Adam. "One ought to have bit Of peace
In the evening, after work: but what with
rain outside and noise inside ones luck is not
much
Nor said the ledger. 'its rough work, but
know o snug corner"
.'Where?' said Adam.
I'm show you, said the lodger
An hour or two later Adam and his lodyer
were coming home. They walked arm-in-
arm and were more afectionate than usual
They gushed in their condolences and ex-
changed grumbles about the rough work of
their life - work was detestabie. weather
abominable. children were worthless aud
noisy brats- They were not in the mood to
bear things equally; and, aiasi the stair
case, when they reached their house, was
swarming with the children. High games
were going forward. Bob had started some
novel play. in which sudden plunges and leaps
formed chief part. As the two men entered,
and commenced the ascent Of the stairway the
last remnantso of their equanimity and self-con-
troi were driven away. They were, probably,
not so sure upon their feet as usual; but more
sure walkers might have been upset by the sud-
den rush downward of an eager band of ex-
cited children. needless of all save the desire
to reach the bottom first On they came,
ana, tiny little things as some Of them we're,
they fairly swept the two men of their feet
and sent them stumbling, rolling and humping
Gown the last step or two. 1t not much Of
fall had it been worse, however. it might
lave been better. 1t was not bad enough to
nj i
anger. Furious, lost to all thought of the
children, they rose and flung them in q huddled
pile together. They rushed onward I'D the
stairs In another minute they were launching
out their wrath on the poor pale-faced tailor
and his paler wife.
Ali the cheap wisdom which selfish people,
untried with anxiety, know so well how to en-
Pioy was In this case mingled with passionate re-
Proaches and exaggerated accounts of the tran
saction down stairs.
Ii was shameful to have children 30 uncared
LOT, growing up nuisance and danger.
Ihey were not going to stand it. The landlord
must choose whether he would have decent,
quiet tenants or a parcel Of noisy. immoral
young raseals. whose parents could not or
would not keep them in order.
More was said, and when these wild and
wrathful men had said their say they bounced
out OF the door, not waiting for reply. Up
the stairs they came, the iodger Whispering
hoarsely his indignant WORTHLESS,
miserable creatures-not fit to be allowed
room In decent houses-unwholesome lot alto
gether."
Old Adam grunted his assent, and was not
above letting strong words fall from his lips
The quick-spoken oaths were on his lips when
be reached their floor. On the landing they
met old Grannie Carrots daughter. AS she
passed she scanned old Adams face doubtfully
as II she scarcely recognized him, and then
swiftly and silently passed on, going down the
stairs Presently all was silent; the children
eyath nrA1r l.. IL
tramped to their rooms, the clouds had passed
from the sky. the stars came out and q gentle
moon poured quiet beam in at the window
where old Adam sat.
Of what was he thinking. and why did the
moonbeams puzzle and trouble him? Does a
man like to say that he was wrong? II old
Adam had not disliked saying it, think it was
what he might have said. At any rate the
moonbeam, as it stole about the still and silent
room, made things seem different. His room
was looking shabbier than he thought it was.
he had always been proud of his
little room. He had knocked together
little book shelves, filed the shelves with a
Few weu-chosen books, using his spare money
with judgment at the old book stalls. Some
taste might have been noticed in the cheap
little ornaments on the mantelpiece; nothing
was tawdry or gaudy. and though nothing was
OF exquisite workmanship, yet there was a
point In everything. The tiny bust was cheap
thing enough, but then it was a bit of hero
worship. Rough plaster as it was it was
Socrates face, and above it was a simple white
plaque. out of which rose a head crowned
with thorns- The moonbeam was kissing it
now.
II am q beast" said old Adam. With that he
got up and walked about his little room. "What
has come to me?n he asked. What has come to
my room? Why, it's not like the same place
And m not like the same man. That's what
she meant when she looked SO; m sure it was"
Then he bethought himself of the lodger What
had he to do with it? Old Adam felt that he
had some hand in it. Yet he was not going to be
shabby and put the blame another. Yet he
could not deny that his books, which had been
his JOY had grown dusty since that lodger
came. He could not deny that he had grown
short OF temper. less patient, less cheerv,
since the lodger came And, certainly, tonight
he had spent couple Of hours where he had
never been before, and it was the lodger that
had tempted him to go.
Il am an ass, said old Adam; and then. as
he caught sight Of the thorn-crowned mead
again. he said, Il will. III 90 down stairs.
Poor little brats! they meant no harm I'd
better have them brought up here for a game.
That would have been more like what he'd
have done. will I'll go down"
And down stairs old Adam went but the
ledger was sharp; he heard Adams door open
and Adams fOotstep on the stair and he came
out and looked over the iron banisters. You're
a fool, he whispered.
YES" said old ADAM II am"
But he did not turn back, for he could not
forget pair of bright eyes which had looked
at him with painful wonder. So he went ON
downward. thinking of the crown of thorns and
feeling deep pity for the children.
But when he reached the poor tailor's door
he was ashamed to 60 in. He listened, and all
was quiet Was it? No! There was a sound
within, footstep behind the door, a murmu-
Of voices, then the opening door.
Old Adam fell back into shadow The light
from the opened door showed him Grannie
Carrots daughter. The little tailor was let
ting her out
They are troublesome, know" the little
tailor was saying but what can do? hardly
get enough, work as I will And as for NV
poor wife" and here the thin, weary voice
broke little
But Grannie Carrots daughter was not going
to let him give way.
well, III look in in the morning and see
them ready and tidy. Don't you let your wife
get up. Wen try and keep them quiet Poor
wee BARNS! it's dull enough for them But
they'll be help TO you VET
Good night, said the little tailor, holding
the guttering, wind-waved candle high and
looking at her face. you're q good woman"
he said.
Nonsense" said Grannie Carrots daughter.
don't think anything Of that, don't think
anything Of the little trouble tonight old
Adam a good sort Its that lodger that has
set him wrong. II he has only courage TO
follow what he knows he might be. he'll shake