The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1894-07-25

shock that was dreaded. BY their sud-
denly appearing, my wife and daughter
were often brought to tears. You may
be sure often tried to reform as saw
the respect of my townsmen and my
family gradually oozing away" The
old man again dwelt upon the happy
household of Henry Brown. / could
almost see their snug little home-Alma
the pride and Joy of it. at was the
happiest moment of my life when
Jeanette, my sweet blonde, came
dancing into our sitting-room and cried
out: ooh, papal mamma is just back
from Henry's, and says they have
baby boyl He looks like YOU 1t was
Alma's boy, and he was my first grand
child.
"Of course, as soon as / could be
permitted to see the youngster was
informed by Jeanette, and / set out
for the Browns. Unfortunately / met
boon companion at the edge of the
village. The first grandchildl' The
event had to be celebrated. / didn't
get to Harry's then, but remembered
no more for several days. My heart
broken wife forgave me as before when
] in shame, presented myself at home.
After few days l visited Alma. She
was possessed of every convenience and
luxury that fond husband could pro-
vide or her taste select. Henry was
away just then; he had gone to the post
office for army news, for the great war
was on. And there was Alma in an
easy rocker, with the sleeping babe
tightly Rugged to her bosom. She
hardly noticed me; she was gazing up
ward with a far.away look, and her eyes
were red with weeping. 'Why those
tearsY | said. What could be the mat
ter? In the most cheerful voice / could
muster l spoke to her; but my Alma,
to my horror, gave me no answer, not
even a look; her eyes did not move. AT
last, as by sudden impulse, like one
in dream, she arose and, holding the
child on one arm, removed the little
blanket, and for moment displayed
the face of her two-weeks-old baby
She covered him again; and placed him
in his crib and, covering her face, cried
out: God forgive me; Thou knowest
that | am not wicked. There is none
to deliver me out of thy handl" Clear
ing his throat, the old man continued:
Il did not know the Scriptures then,
but it soon dawned upon me. The
child, if not positively idiotic, had
horrid, changeable birthmark. 1t was
the fac-simile of the ugly scar on my
face. The scar and the malformed
nose came to the innocent child, and
by no fault of the God fearing Henry
and Alma. My daughter, at every look
cast upon her child, had grown more
and more morbid, so that at my visit
she became almost beside herself. Her
intense affl iction had taken on a strange
type. 'The cruel marks on the face of
the child are traceable to the mother.
My kind, loving husband, as soon as he
realizes it, will hate me. Oh, this ter
rible heredityl How can l bear it? The
innocent suffering for the guiltyl' She
had tried to guard this horrid disfgure-
ment as secret from Henry; but, of
course, such a strain could not last long.
Fear first, then concealment, then
anxiety, then cruel misgivings, all iu-
tensified by her constant grief, led in
time to positive arrangement. My poor
daughter, my Alma, believed herself
despised by all the members of her
husbands family. She declared that
she was curse to him, where she had
hoped to be blessing, because my sins
were visited upon her first, and after
ward upon her child. OF course l
never drank any more alcoholic drink"
AT the next station this singular old
man left me; but he had already told
me that poor Alma had soon been car
ried to an insane asylum, and that
Henry went to the war, never to re-
turn. e" 1 cared for the little one," he
said, "till he was fifteen years old.
The red horseshoe scar and the NAL
formed face grew worse, and the boy
always walked and talked like drunk
ard half intoxicated. He ran away
from me, and is now somewhere strug-
Cling for life among men," AS he
shook my hand, he added: ;" Yon may
meet him, my grandson, somewhere.
Tell him his sad old grandfather has
sought him for sixteen years. My
business? 1t is to plead with young
men that they, like me and mine, may
not fall under such curse God spare
you, dear sir!"-Gen. o. o. Ho,Card
in N. Y. Independent.