Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-10-09

ana you imagine you are NOi4iS q Christian duty. You listen to hypocritical professions at home and fiattery abroad, and you think you are good man. But mark my word. Hiram, the day will come when you will discover that you have wocfully missed the Christians walk in life. In the next world, if not in this, your neg feet of your daughter will rise up against you and make you wish you had never been born. The time will come when the compliments and flat teries of Wheedler and the Piclleses will not soothe youS soul"
 "But, Mitchell, listen to nc" Hiram began. only to be promptly shut up by his sister who went on:
 'There is no excuse for your conduct, Hiram, none at all. Your daughter may have done wrong in marrying against your will, but she could not have done greatly wrong, since you ac- knowledge that John Green is a good, honest, sober, industrious man. But | wrong or not, her crime was not so great that you were warranted in mak- ing her an outcast, while you fill your house with those W who care for you only so far as your do tars and cents go. Do you think G d will forgive you and take ycl to His bosom so l long as you remain ObliviOuS to your daughter? Never, never. If you ever expect to get to Heaven take some of the money you are subscribing here and there, and devote it to your child's needs. Better a thousand times let the church go unpainted than to let that child suffer one moment from want. Now I've had my say, Hiram, and 1 hope my words will set you to thinking and acting more like a Chris tian and less like a heathen, and that before you throw away another dollar in the useless effort to buy favor of God, you will act the part of a civilized father. Woe unto you, Pharisees, hypocrites. ;"
 Having thus brought her lecture to finish and feeling her soul relieved of mighty burden, Aunt Mitchell arose from her seat and, giving a whitening look of scorn and pity to those at the table. swept from the room, and an hour later left Blatchford's house.
 His sisters words had a telling effect on Blatchford. They cut him deeply, and he could not rid himself of the uncom- fortable feeling they awakened. He realized the truth of her words, and he grew small in his own estimation. He understood fully the futility of his l liberal financial gifts to the church and the heathen, and he was less inclined to praise and pat himself than he had been for long time. Sister Blatchford tried her old tactics to rally him, but they lacked their old-time efficacy, and he left the house that morning III a sad, dejected state of mind
 Reaching his office he plunged into his business duties with unusual encr- gy, and for little while held to them; but soon his thoughts wandered back to the scene at home, and between him and his papers there fitted pictures of his child. Now he saw her face, pale, sad and sunllcn, looking responsibility into his eyes, and again he caught a glimpse of her form, no longer rounded and plump as of old, but an cmaciatcd skeleton, telling only too well the story of want and suffering. For an hour or more he tried to banish his daughter from his thoughts and concentrate his mind upon the business he had in hand, but in spite of all his efforts pictures of his child would dance across his papers to distract him and add to his self accusations.
 At last, finding that it was impossible to control his wandering thoughts and fix them where he wished, and being unable to longer endure the thoughts his fancy bred, he threw down his pa pcrs and pen and fled from the office. He walked madly down the street, hav- ing no idea of his destination, having no care for his course, intent on but one thing, and that was to escape the thoughts that haunted him. On and on he walked until he passed through the town and out into the country, nor did he halt until he came to the river bank. Then he sat down, and removing his hat felt his burning, throbbing brow.
 My God, my God" he murmured ''what have done! My poor, lost child how could l ever forget you so! How have I forgotten your mother and my promise to her. Oh, God, spare me and let me live to undo what I have done Let me but see my child once more and receive her forgiveness for all of my neglect and cruelty.''
 A long time he sat there gazing dowr into the deep flowing water, and more than once he was inclined to throw him self into the current and find relief at once for his tortured soul. There, he thought, he could escape the awful thoughts that haunted him, and he fancied that the cold water would bt welcome to his burning brow. Blu
 finally the desire to see his daughte, once more and atone to her for hi
 cruel neglect got the better of him
 and he arose and Went toward his of flee.
 , As he walked unsteadily back h. wondered why people stared at him so 7, little dreaming what a change afev , hours of mental anguish had worked il his outward appearance. He did no \ know that his face had become bag 6 gard, and his eyes bloodshot. He did no 7 realize that the fires of hell that burne f within him had scorched and seame , him outwardly.
 f He was nearing his office when h 1 met Rev. Whcedler, and that gentle | A1- oI