The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1892-10-19

tranquil benefcence toward the poor little
world. How insignificant were human
woes In the presence Of such amazing
splendori Even If one were n king among
men, how petty must be his domain, a
mere point of observation of inconcevable
marvels And yet what was that plaintive
soundp Ruthven glanced down.
On the curb sat a beggar woman Groom
ing to sleeping infant He could see the
look of content on the poor waits wan
face as the little hand rested caressingly
against her cheek. After all was not this
a more astounding spectacle? Was not
every mortal being n microcosm as preg-
nent with uurevealed truth as any star?
How mighty, how mysterious, was this
human heart that amid privation and dis
tress could find such peace in natural afTec-
tion Ruthven leaned out on the sill and
dropped his purse into the woman's lap.
She looked up and smiled, and that smile
said God bless you"
Possessed it n magic against bitterness
In n changed mood surely, Ruthven turned
away and strobe slowly up and down his
room. Why should he say amen to the
forebodings of his friends and prove the
ruin that they predicted? Was not this
beggar noblcr in her endurance than a sui
eide rottng beneath the crossroads with
stave through his craven breastP But oh,
the poiguance of Illustration, and OH the
emptiness of lifel So he had never achieved
MS manhood? lie was still a pettish child
bevailing the moon. All, was it not the
truth that he possessed far more than he
deservedS With youth, wealth. health,
was he not ungrateful to despair What,
then, did he know of life that he must
pirate Of it's emptiness? lie had indeed dis
Il Il al.
had he ever workedP Why should he not
take his talents from their hiding place
and bid them increase9 If he must die
should he not wait until his death would
be deprivation?
Ruthven looked around him at the
pictures on the wall. No critic eye could
detect their faults so unerringly as his, for
he had realized them in the making, but
had been too indifferent tot try to do better
Suppose that now he should try? Could
he not win an honorable fame for himself,
and would not that fame be something in
lifeS
Again the plaintive strains of the poor
woman's lullaby attracted his attention.
Why had he always been, why should he
now be so selish2 There was beggar
before his door; there were beggars outside
the doors of the world. He recalled the
indescribable squalor and wretchedness he
had coldly witnessed as one of the sights in
+ different cities. Had he tried to give re-
lief? Was there not work for his ample
means, not far away among strangers but
here in Aberdeen among those who might
well be of his blood? Would not charity
be something in life, and should he not
offer it, since he so soon would ask iti
And did it not return blessing, since
/ oh Off Of ha ff,ht kal
brought him 4 thrill of joy2
! Up and down the room the faster strobe
Ruthven as his imagination revealed
happy future. He saw himself going
about among men doing good. He heard
the prayers, he felt the tears of gratitude.
He recognized appreciation in the glances
of his fellow citizens, and these filled him
with an honest pride. His heart was al
ways light because he never considered its
pangs. And then the day came when fair
hands were stretched toward him, when a
tender voice said: "You have proved your
worth, dearest. can now trust you, as l
have always loved you"
Oh, vision of joy supremel He saw him
self seated within the coy inglenook of
| home. About the room that form so dear
to him was fitting, on wifely cares intent,
! while around his neck tiny arms were en-
| twined, and his cheek was caressed as
that of the mendicant had been.
Ruthven stopped short and stood for an
| instant in state of eXaltation.
Thank God" he cried, II am saved
from myself. | see the right, and shall
pursue it,"
In his fervor he brought his clinched fist
down heavily on the stand. There was a
sharp report, moan and Reuben Ruthven
lay dead in his great armchair.
And through the open windows came the
plaintive strains of the poor woman s lul-
laby.
The next morning, even while the care
taker was fleeing terror stricken from the
awful stare of death, Mary Dalton sang
blithely as she culled flowers for the break
fast table, for her heart was bounding with
rapture.
"He will surely come today" she muir
INJURED. "And we shall be so happy. 1t
was better for me to seem reluctant at
first, but you shall know how tenderly
love you, my hero, my darling. '-PatSbur9