Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1891-11-08

cor tinueQ LORD. LOIu. "udu uieo ~
! nave eaten-what gay times have haa
in his very room. A young friend OF
mine-we boarded in Chambers street
together in those days-bought THIS
boDse while il was yet building, ana
when II was finished carried his sweet
vonnp bride into ii. And great house
warming we had 100. was opposed 10
it-rbat is, TO the house; | thought IL 100
fine for him To begin on; for you must
know, young sir, there were lie" haer
houses in the city when this was ouiit'
Yet he could afford it. Young as he
was. he was the head OF ilourlshlnS
business, built up by his father, who
had died and left it to his only son, with
a number Of old and experienced clerks.
Yes. indeed, no house in this city stood
higher than that Of Dorison and Com
pany." ,.
As the old man INDUCED his reminis-
Genital vein, the younger kept his dark
eyes fixed upon him, and at The mention
of the name of the firm the color crept
slowly into his cheeks.
Yes, there have been gay times In
this old house." continued the old man.
81 have seen the beauty and chivalry OF
old New York gathered within these
walls. Sometimes when the weather Is
fair venture out to the park to see the
ladies drive by, whom as young girls, IN
all their bravery OF silks and laces, l
/ have seen sweep up and down THESE
stairs. Happy times, indeed! was al
ways welcome here as the confidential
friend OF the head Of the house, ana l
, love il in its degradation. l have seen
sorrow and mourning here too. L nave
/ followed each one of DoriSon's children
| through the door above TO their graves
save the youngest, 4 boy. But the time
came when this house was not Tine
enough for DOrison. and he moved into
brownStope front in Twenty-third
street. There disaster fell upon him.
/ His wife died and he was never the same
man. He retired from buSinesS--a mis-
take, for the time hung heavily on his
hands, and he dropped. His only inter-
est was his only Son-only child, in fact
| saw him daily in town, but in those
years, having interests abroad, l was
away from town a great deal"
He interrupted himself to sip his beer
Had he looked at the young man he
would have seen a most singular express
sion on his face; high color showing
through his duskY skin and eyes intense
and burning. The old man did not, for
he continued calmly:
"Dorison and his son lived In this fine
house alone for some years. Then one
morning early servant entering the
library found pOriSon bent over the
table at work. Wondering at the early
rising Of his master he spoke. Receiy-
ing no answer he went up to him. Dor
ison was dead. lie had died in the act
of writing a letter. The most singular
thing of II was that his executors found
that he, whom we all supposed so rich,
had not o dollar. The very house he
lived in was mortgaged to its full
value"
The young man leaned forward, and
extending his hand laid it uOon the arm
of the elder man, saying with great de-
cision:
You have q purpose in telling me this
storyw
The old man looked up with sur
priSed air as ne replied:
"What purpose, young sir, could l
have in telling such story TO an entire
Stranger"
The young man made no reply for a
moment, but continued to gaze steadily
into the eyes Of the older one, as If
thinking profoundly. Then he said in
q deep, low voice, quivering with emo
ton:
az will continue the story. Mr.. Dori-
son was fond OF the young man, his son,
treating him indulgently and giving him
most generous allowance. The son
was q youngster caught up in the whirl
I OF fashion-a member OF the leading
clubs, following what you doubtless
would call fast life, but, as compared
with others, not fast. II extravaganza,
he brought no trouble upon his father,
I if reckless in his life, no disgrace upon
the name Of DorlSon. The letter his
I father was writing when he was so sud-
denly stricken with death ruined the
( son. To whom this letter was addressed,
I or what the fathers motive in writing
+ il, never was known, and it is doubtful
now whether these things ever will be
/ known. The letter ran thus:
"'MY DEAR FRIEND-The end is well
nigh reached. Indeed, if you cannot
+ immediately give me the assistance
need IL is even now reached. With such
assistance and few years more Of life
all can be repaired am a broken man
in spirit and in health. The last few
years | have been tortured as no human
+ l. ~ II
compelled TO sit helplesSly by and see
fine property devoted TO covering the
consequences Of crime; TO making good
( fOrgeTies on my own name, against
which | could not even lift my voice in
protest 10 repairing losses of others by
robberieS and defalcatiouS; to stopping
the wheels Of justice, which il permit
ted 10 60 on would have brought ex-
posture and disgrace, and all the while
have been compelled TO sustain and con-
ceal the knowledge that all this was
done and brought upon me by my IN
grateful son, who
Death fell upon him." continued the
young man, "the moment he had con-
demned the son. To whom was this
letter addressed? Crushed and agonized,
the son in frenzy sought the one TO
whom it was written as means Of prov
ing that the condemnation Of the son by
the dying father was untrue. Ali efforts
were unavailing. The fact of the con-
domination was bruited about, it became
known in the clubs; it became public
property; it was published in the papers;
the police undertook to bring the crimes
alleged against the son home to him, but
they were no more successful than he
was in his efforts to disprove them. His
friends fell away from him; the doors OF
his acQuaintances were closed against
him; he was cut on the streets. Efforts
bo4Dr r,oia 70 nv mol hin, from ona ol,k