The Princeton union., 1896-05-14

N cue D:es pal,

lloilq0u$b $bFluSe, TnaI famous, 9tnOrOIgll-9
fare Of England's busiest center of
traffic, of its endless steam of human
ity, constantly passing to and fro in
their daily pursuits, of innumerable
tales of woe, of lives. lost, misspent
and forlorn, OF tragedies, occurring
only to be at once forgotten and fol-
lowed lowe by more startling crimes, the
inevitable result and outcome of every
the seat Of untold wealth and untold 4
unrolls before us the 1
depths OF human nature, only too often
in their most revolving form?
1t was on a dark and foggy evening
the comfort of their fireside, when
he has a home had come and gone.
Suddenly two pedestrians, approach
ing from opposite directions, came to-
a sudden and rather unpleasant col
fision Oh the bridge. One Of them,
young and dressed in the height Of
fashion, had come from the aristo-
cratic regions of the West End, while
the other, who had approached from
the laboring districts of Southwark,
was much older, and poorly clad.
Their heads has felt the effects of the
sudden contact, and both had come
to a full stop, each feeling the injured
member with his hands, and nursing
it, while the compliments they ex-
changed We're anything but polite.
Thunder and lightning, sir" ex-
claimed the younger of the two, s'your
Uranium is not exactly bOlStered up
with springs, I assure you. Zounds!
Why could you not get out of the
way, when you saw me approach?"
The other, evidently a laborer, shrug
ged his shoulders, and threw a long
ing look across the railing to the dark
waters of the Thames below. r.
Where were you going post haste?"
continued the speaker, noticing the
mans detected attitude.
There" came the hoarse answer,
pointing down the river.
There? Well, my man, our road is
the same. Take me with your
The poor laborer cast surprised
look at the well-dressed young man.
"You?" he said. "You to go down
there? Impossible! What has put
such dreadful thought into your
head? You are surely not suffering
from want; you cannot possibly know
the sorrow and the misery that is the
poor mans portion! You look like
rich man, you have youth besides
consequently you are happy and to be
envied"
Wrong, my friend, altogether wrong.
Wealth is not always akin to happi-
ness" responded the young man,
,"Come, rouse yourself. can see
things have also gone wrong with you.
Walk with me a short distance and let
me explain"
Strange! Here were two persons
who bad not even known Of each
others existence Ave minutes before,
toward ole dfotller by that sympa-
thetic flash which SO often influences
our destinies. &.
Peacably and contentedfy they
walked side by side, while the rich
man poured his heart out to his poor
companion, telling him with impulsive
words that he led anything but a hap
:py life, although possessed Of every
thing that usually goes to make life
worth living. He was a bachelor who
had Inherited great wealth from his
uncle. He had drained the pleasure
cup of all kinds Of amusements, had
kept servants, horses, and carriages; !;
numberless friends had congregated
at his splendidly furnished apartments
and in his country residence; he had
even wildly speculated without rhyme
or reason in Lombard street, but won
in spite of his folly; he had lived like
a sybarite, and thrown away his mo-
ney with both hands, and now he was
tired of lifee-sa tiated and blase in spite
OF his youth.
Melancholy, remorse and misanthro-
ply troubled him incessantly, and lie
could not help repeating to himself
). that his life had been an utterly use
less one. Therefore he had finally
come to the deliberate conclusion to
end his worthless existence in the
waters Of the River Thames
The laborer was dumbfounded
Never in his life had he listened to
such a queer tale.
''How incomprehensible!' he ex-
claimed. ''My lifqe tells exactly the
opposite story. I am very poor, have
an ailing wife and seven children, and,
alas, no food for them; thus far I have
honestly and tirelessly tried to make
the two ends meet-in a manner-by
hard work, but a few days ago lost
my place in the factory on account
Of the dull times. I cannot witness
the misery at home any longer; it tears
my heart to look at my starving loved
ones;and though my poor suffering wife
tries hard to console me and to give
me courage, bidding me not to despair,
l see no escape. / have no hope left,
and am resolved to end my miserable
existence. May God in His infinite
mercy have pity on my familyr'
\ Poor felloW!" The rich young mans
countenance was full Of deep pity,
and unbidden tears gathered in his
eyes. Such tale he had never. heard,
never dreamt of amid the aff1uence Of
his surroundings.
''NoW, I know that there sre people
in this world who are great deal
more unhappy thaa considered my
self to be, fool that I was" he re-
fected. @ 81
But cheer up, man; there is, help in
a case like yours. Come, lead the way,
take me to your house. / guess can
end your troubles, and as far as the
the jumping into the Thames is con
cerned, think there is no special
hurry about it, do you?''
"a cab soon brought the two former
oon n1i fn,, ,o1F