The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1893-02-26

frost of Sarah Shrubsole's heart, to be slow
~ penetrating the crust of sullen discOn-
tent in which she had wrapped her spirit,
enshrouded against all the world.
Such love as Sarah had ever felt in her
arid life had been brief passion for q
worthless man which she had burned her.
self withal but of the universal love, the
love of her kind, she had known nothing.
By degrees she came to linger long while
the boys were at their food, to get some
comprehension of their natures. and in
some vague way to feel q sort of mother
hood to them all. since any one OF them
might be her own flesh and blood. though
neither her eyes nor her instinct could sf-
firm it.
And nearly every Sunday she got word
or two with "Dimples." She knew by now
that she was not the only poor woman to
whom he was kind; that many of bis hours
of hard won leisure were spent by sick
beds, to which he carried the highest
spirits and brightest words, though he
mil ht be inwardly suffering from the mel
ancholy with which such temperaments
as his are usually cursed.
Humbly surreptitiously even. she tried
to initiate his example.
Whatever be come to Saireyi" said one
neigh boz to another. about three months
after Sarah ShruOsole's first Sunday visit.
She's new woman since she took to going
to the Founding. Yet she holds to it she
don't 60 there to see Sammy. for. hough
he's her own, she can't pick him out from
the other D'ys there-but her heart do seem EN-
mighty kind oil at once. and. though once
she as ae cross q woman as ever drove q
man to drink and bad company, now she'll
put her tailoring by and starve if a neigh
boris sick and wants help. Lord! 1t makes
one think of the story in the Bible where a
Teller smites the rock, and 10. and behold!
out there gushes pure spring water"
CHAPTER HI.-"NoTHING WILL CONTENT
HIM WHO Is NOT CONTENT WITH A
LITTLE"
One Sunday, many months after Sarah's
first appearance. DIR. "DImples" saw an I'M.
familiar face beside her. face battered
and terribly the worse for wear-sickly,
too. withal, as if the hand of disease
grlpped him fast. He was neatly shaved
and washed: his clothes. too though poor,
were tidy. But for such care and the or
der he displayed he was visibly behoIde
to the woman who stood beside him. and
upon whom he evidently both physically
and mentally leaned.
Sarah had never been a comedy woman in
her best of days, but some inward peace
within her that morning wrought her
features into harmony, and made them q
pleasant sight upon which to dwell.
The mans eyes seldom left the gallery
In which the boys sat; from one to another
of the distant faces his glance roved battle
and rejected by the uniform lines of face
and dress. He'd be nearly eight by now,
wouldn't NET" whispered Sarah Shrubsole's
husband in her ear. and Sarah, her face
cloudy for a moment. nodded yes" When
the preacher rose. for awhile bis words made
no I'm preston on his new hearers ears Bnt
presently a word frequently repeated
aroused his curiosity.
What's pessimismW he whispered to his
wife.
"Hopelessness grumbling." she said
promptly. whereupOn he listened.
I'VE have SEEM" said the preacher, "that
the pessimlsts underestimate human pleas
uree. Hartmann quietly puts down work
amongst the miseries of existence. ignoring
altogether the enjoy ment which frequently
does not make any mention of laughter in
his short list OF what be considers the good
things of life; yet to laughter we owe a very
large proportion of the brightness
OF existence. This is Just an ex-
ample of what we find constantly
In pessimistic books - they grossly
overestimate the misery and underestimate
the Joys of life. Now Won sec that
the pessimists here assume that nothing
has emerged in the cause of evolution but
pain. or at any rate. nothing worth speak
ing of in comparison with pain-nothing
certainly. which is Of sufficient value at all
to compensate for pain. A strange assump-
ton for men of education and refinement
Have they never heard of loves We can
trace It's dim beginning az far back as the
dawn of sentient life. At first tt was but u
blind instinct. but by degrees 1t was carried
even amongst what we are accustomed TO
call brutes. 80 the point of virtue. the point
of heroism; as when q bird voluntarily
Rives MP It's life for its offspring. or the dog
begs of from punishment. TIE child that