The National tribune., 1892-09-01

at last"
She had her hair very we'll done, and she
wore pretty red dress and holland apron,
and her cheeks had delicious color and her
eyes asts iss'' you are, j. repeated, and .h.
glanced wissfnllysat liis face. "a took the lib
erty of lighting IRE for you, and my sweet
heart must be in excellent temper, it IS
burning SO spendidly; did you ever see such
beautiful chop2 ffhere!" and she popped it
II don't want an ything to eat, thank you,
Miss Winter" said Tom, wearily.
Nonsense" said Miss Winter emphatcally.
And she hustled about in way that meant
business.
"You want that chop and cup of coffee and
consume them."
And consume them he did before long, and
Miss Winter watched him and chatted to him
the WHILE and even made him laugh once or
twice by her funny tales. She knew what was
the matter with him, bless you; she had been
through it, and she was full of sympathy.
She did not rise to 60 till she saw some color
in his pale face and some light in his eyes, nay,
she did not even go then. She waited till he
began to look drowsy Then she said:
Really, it's quite improper my staying so
long. | shall havs mother calling me. Good
night Mr.. Cheadle"
She took his hand in her strong, warm
grasp.
Good night, Mr.. Cheadle," she said again.
"and-God bless YOU"
Her words and her touch remained with him
and strengthened his heart to endurance.
GOOD night, and-God bless you"
"God hasn't taken much trouble about me-"
he thought to himself. sadly, and he lay back
| in his chair; and as he watched the fire he re-
viewed his life drearily.
He was so occupied in dreaming over the
past that he forgot the future and for the time
being forgot, too. the little bottle, the contents
| of which he had meant to make use Of that
night. The result of his hot supper and the
fire was to send him to sleep, and when he
awoke in the morning it was to find himself in
his armchair, and to see the sunlight stealing
in through the blinds.
He rose yawning and wondering what it all
meant, and then the recollection of last night
flashed across him.
InvoIuntarily he put his hand in his pocket
and drew out small packet. With steady
hand he pulled off the paper and held up the
bottle before his eyes. 1t was labeled "Lauda-
| num-"
He flung open his window aud leaned out.
| He was almost resolved to throw the poison far
away into the street, but somehow he hesi-
tated to do it.
He glanced back into his room. In the CRATE
were gray ashes; the remnants of last even
ing's meal Uttered the table; the gas had been
burning all night, and the atmosphere, es-
pecially as contrasted with the outer air, was
vitiated and oppressive
Suddenly the sound of bells from neighbor
ing church smote upon his ear. They were
ringing for morning service. They reminded
him of other bells-wedding bells-snd fling
ing his head up in an attitude of defiant reck-
| lessness, he strobe up to his cupboard and
placed the bottle on a shelf within easy reach.
He felt at peace now. He knew that when
existence became uncomfortable there would be
no need to continue it.
That morning, when he had gone to the city,
the landlady's daughter came to do his room.
| There o SERVANT to do the rough work, but
| Miss Winter was not above helping, and she
thought that Mr.. Chea1le's room should have
| . thorough turnout under her supervision.
She was not person to do things by halves,
and she gave orders that the cupboard should
be cleaned. She, herself, took out the contents.
She looked anxiousy at the whisky bottle /; it
| was as she had seen it last But-what was
this little bottle2
Now, Tom CheadIe had one good point in
the matter of looks, and that was his teeth; he
had particularly good, even, white teeth, and
| it had been his boast that he had never had the
toothache in his life. So it was not probable
| that he intended to put this to the use for
| which so many people kept it.
| No; Miss Winter had her suspicious, awful
suspicious, increased by the word above the la
| bel, Poison" and by the recollection of the
y
day. She knew what it meant. and she turned
| cold and sick.
| She went through her work miserably
| enough, and she was so absent minded that she
| did not rebuke the general" when that lady
| stood upon Toms leather chair-a personal pos
session-to polish the scratched glass over the
ntel-piece But she came to a certain con-
| clusion, and it seemed to her that the end JUS
| titled the means.
She took the little bottle round to the chem
| lists at the corner, and gave il into his hands
for a few minutes and when she got back she
replaced the bottle on Toms shelf behind the
| big black one just where it had been before,
| but she knew now which of the two was the
more dangerous
Whether 1t WINS tho consciousness that he had
| the wherewithal to ease his neartac,ro there is
no knowing, but for some reason Tom was
more cheerful for the next few weeks than he
had been for long time.
1t was just before Helen Powers wedding
day that the old misery came upon him.
She asked him to her wedding. She was 40
happy herself, that she could not but feel
kindly disposed to all the world, and she re-
membered Tom Cheadle. and did not wish him
| to think she despised him for being poor.
And how was she to know what tumult of
passion, and wrath, and misery, what visions
of the unattainable, what pangs of envy were
caused by the little piece Of cardboard, with
the invitation in silver letters upon it?
But he ola not refuse what she offered him.
He would spend all he possessed to buy clothes,
in which be should be it to appear at her we'd
ding; he would see her in her beauty, maybe
touch her hand he would see, too this man
who had gained so much, because he had al
ready been blessed with wealth, and knowledge,
and position he would hear the words said
which would bind them to one another for life,
and he would find strength to wish them hap
piness.
And then-they would 60 away, and he
would come home, and never more would he
mngle with his fellow-men, neither would he
have cause to envy them.
| Aud so the evening came, and she had been
| put out of his reach forever.
He felt no passion now, no anger, no fear.
ALI that was spent. He was only very, very
| tired.
His face as he took down the bottle was
white and set. He did not care what any one
would say or think of him; he did not care if
there was future state, or if he would find
God awaiting him in judgment; he was only
so weary of living, SO unfit to struggle, so aux-
ious to be still.
He knelt and said the Lords Prayer in ODE.
dienco to an instinct; then he poured the
liquid into glass, drank it and lay down in
his bed. He put out the light, folded his arms
across his breast, and closed his eyes.
His last thought before he slid into uncon-
seriousness was trivial one. He missed the
ticking of his watch, which he had pawned to