Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-05-11

and soaked; no such man as Joel had
 probably ever lived before; his benev-: olence was unusual, his modesty su- preme, his business capacity phenom-
 enal, and his ability to carry the dis
 trict as regarded money unequaled. l He aOaS nominated. That night there was a great bonfire
 lit upon the square, that plunged it's huge tongues up into the darkness and
 relit thousand little fires on cornice,
 sign and window. The streets were
 aswarm with people, wedging, passing,
 smoking, grinning. shaking hands; grouping, melting, knotting again. ! with here and there brawled up above | the murmur a drunken "Hurrah for | Whitneyr' l Presently Joel was upon platform I speaking to the people. He was happy, he was grateful, he was purple. He was showering them with English fresh l from the idiomatic quarry with whirl 1 of windmill gesticulation. He felt that ! he was felicitous-he had treated
 good many delegates-and larded I the ribs of his rhetoric with stories and | facetious filings at his opponents that
 set the rabble in a roar. He felt that he I was statesman, that he had found 1 himself, and he apostrophized the flag, 1 eulogized the soldier-he made the
 bulk of his money during the war-and poured the Vials of his scorn upon the ! unrepentant South. Then he beamed
 again, and held up the Openstone dis 1 trict with all it's prosperity, its patri-
 mortal dead, and the people roared. 1 How could they refrainP He was so l happy, so beaming, so like a human bonfire! Openstone was proud, at least ! a part of it was much elated and | seemed dying to yell. Absalom Heater listened awhile and 1 then went home, and taking the twins | in his arms, shuddered; this unwonted | eruption in Joel, to him, seemed some- 4 thing appalling. But Julius was be- side himself in ecstasy; he would listen a moment his mouth would 1 slowly drop open, then it would yell. It was a great occasion, and Salvo Popp's Adam s-apple, like knot of | mercury, rose with the heat of feeling until it seemed very nearly on level I with his ears
 John Earling did not attend; all day 1 rumors of Joers progress in the con- vention came up to the office of Bower & Earling, and when the final an- nouncement was brought in by the dry \ O4 OdIfO 4OPP1 oO"OA threw his head back and laughed, and I a shadow went over the junior part ner's face. To one the idea of Joel going to Congress appealed like a ! piece of ridiculous humor, to the oth- CT, knowing his moral and mental un- fitness, like dark injustice to the people. But John Earling worked on, and in the evening was still at work ! when he heard, coming in through the ! open windows, the hum and shouts of 1 the concourse that poured about the I streets, the music of band playing l upon the hotel veranda across the square, and presently saw the tarry ! volume of smoke and flame from Joel s
 bonfire leaping up beyond the tree
 tops of the courthouse park. He
 could faintly hear, coming through the huzzas and noises of the people,
 the suck and hiss and crackle of the
 flames as they fed upon the huge heap of tar-smeared barrels and boxes; then Joel speaking, and the roaring bursts
 of applause, pierced through by the shrill calls and yowls and yells of boys
 as by crooked, awful needles.
 He ceased writing. The noises jared
 him; and taking up a book he att ftempted to fix his thoughts upon it. But in vain; thoughts of his own would intrude, and he laid the book down, and, leaning his forehead in his hands tupon the desk, let them have their way. He thought of the life of this iman whose voice he could hear, who twas feeding the populace on froth, on prejudice, on gibes Could it be that
 he was the peoples choiceP He seemed
 to be. Was his life a success? It seemed to be, but there, like half the world 8 | n cess that helped only itselfP Of what factual worth was it in a realm iwhere millions needed help? Nay,
 counting how sorely it gnawed the
 race, had not the space it took in the iworld been better always space? lfgood lwere the finer, loftier, nobler part of cre- lation, a life's success and greatness imust surely be measured by the good it
 should achieve! And yet it was a sweary, weary world; he was tired, he
 was worn; the zest and inspiration of
 his life seemed gone; he knew that for weeks he had pushed himself forward
 without spirit, that his feet had dragged, and that hope's ringing 3guess-work seemed little louder than a Whisper. He was spent and lonesome; Iwhat had he ever had but toilP What
 of love, of home, of brother, of sister,
 
 leste! And she, too, what sorrows had crossed her path, and what grief must now be feeding on her gentle
 heart! Oh, if he were but brave enough, 1 if he only could be cruel enough to go to her! He must at last; no matter
 how much of pain should follow on the
 shock, he must go to her at last. In his loneliness the voice of Joel seemed far away, the whistling of an incoming
 evening train, the cries, the noises,
 grew faint and indistinct; in his weari- ness he was dreaming. The moments came and slipped away into the
 silence, the light from the plain
 chandelier fell slanting over him softly lighting up his Ii" Il face, and l The drifted onwa :. Suddenly a light step came up the stairs, figure | came hesitating to the open door; il I~ca ( I,1