The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1897-05-13
WHILE YOU MAY
STOP
By JOHN NEAL.

VIOLENT looking man, with plentiful
white hair and eyes that seemed to
be looking into the future "We must
forget tie past, and enter at once up
on new path; it may be OF self de
nial it may be. for a time, of self
sacrifice; but l have a duty to per
form-a promise made to your dear
mother upon her death bed to watch
over you, through good report and
through evil report, as if you were nv
own child. That promise must be
kept, come what may"
The young man to whom these
words were adressed sat in the shadow
of large bay window, hung with
heavy and sumptnous drapery. lie
was leaning npon both elbows, with
his hands covering his face; he trem-
bied, and his chest heaved; and when
he looked up, the dark lashes of his
large, handsome eyes were glistening.
But he made no reply, and sat as if on
trial for his life-pale, deadly pale,
with his dark, rich hair matted upon
his forehead, the dew of i'll suppress
ed anguish upon his lip, and his chin
quivering.
in the first place, if you have any
respect for yourself" continued the
speaker-the young man shifted his
position and turned away from the
light with a visible shudder-" -"and
that you have. and ought to have, my
dear Willie, Notwithstanding all that
has happened, l feel sure, you must
not allow yourself to be dishe artened
1t you do yon are lost mean what
| say, lost. Still, l would not have
You over confident of yourself"
The young man half rose from the
window seat and brushed away the
tears that had been slowly gathering:
but still he opened not his mouth in
reply,
"WIllie, my dear boy. | do not ask
| how you have been led astray. |
make large allowances for your tenn
permanent, and for the peculiar temp
tation to which you have been expos
ed; but | want you to set a watch up
on yourself, to begin life anew, to
forget the past, except in SO far as it
may be warning to you, and, if you
should again step over the line, you
have marked out for yourself. to pro
mise me that you will not give up
for great reformatIons are of slow
growth-but that you will come to
me AS to an elder BROTHER"
80 that l had an elder brother, sir.
-'And tell me the story of your
weakness, without being questioned,
and just SO far as your own self re-
spect will permit you-"
MY own self respect, sir!''
And we will go down upon our
knees together and see if we cannot
lind the strength we most need-you,
for action, /, for counsel"
The young man shook his head
Il cannot pray, sir. l never pray
ed in my life!'
Cannot pray, Willie? Never pray
ed in your life? How mistaken you
are! The very sorrow you feel now,
the self reprCach, the shame. the
secret wailing of your heart, with no
human ear to listen. and all your
wishes and strivings after the
unattainable good-what are these
but prayer, and prayer, too. such as
God himself will accept, if your sor
row be sincere"
Can this be true? Oh, sir, can
this be true? God bless you for the
first word of encouragement have
| heard since that dreadful day when l
forgot myself, my poor dead mother,
and all my promises to her, and-and
| Ifntf
face with his hauds once more)-"and
God himself"
Enough, my dear Willie-enough
| am satisfied with what | see. l
know that He is now striving with
you, and [ leave you in His hands.
You have had wonderful escape.
But for His watchful kindness you
might now be on trial for your life
But L have sent for you, not with any
purpose of arraignirg much less of
Judging you; and if you will bear with
me l think | may be able to show you,
in the life of that mysterious elder
brother of whom you have heard SO
much and know so little"
'Ah, sir, did yon know him?"
Know him, Willie? Almost as
well as | know myself"
| For Gods sake. Mr.. Gore, let me
know the truth about him! Ever
since was a child 1 have longed to
question all that knew poor Howard,
but have always been prevented by
the warnings of my poor mother, and
by the solemn prohibition of my faith
er. But now | am at liberty to ask
you-what otherwise | may never
have an opportunity of knowing
since of all his friends, or associates,
or acquaintances, if you will, you are
the only survivor have heard Of
what his offences were? what were
the circumstances of his death; and
whether, after all, be was not high
minded, noblehearted fellow, notwith-
standing all that have heard whis-
pered against him."
'Of this you shall Judge for your
self, my dear Willie, after you have
heard my story. Shall l proceed?"
The young man bowed, and drew
up mis- chair with an eager look and 1
flushed countenance
You are we'll aware that your faith
er was temperate man, in the true
est sense OF the word-temperate il
all things"
''Yes sir, but no fanatic.'
You are right, Willie. But ALLOW
me to proceed"
Il beg your pardon. sir"
"One day, while Howard was writ
ing in his fathers office-he wa
about fifteen at the time-there was
cry of fire. Howard caught u!
his hat and instantly disappeared
Nothing more was seen of him, till oil
his way to dinner. your father over
took him in the street, excessivel,
heated and flushed. and when spokel
to, answering incoherently."
Poor fellowr'
You may we'll say poor fellow! TO