The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1898-11-22

were rambling and ~incoherent; and
though he worked all day and made
more than one beginning, his sermon
was a failure; and there was nothing
to be done out TO tear up his notes and
make an entirely fresh attempt on the
morrow.
We'll, E sen, ne said, with an air Of
grim determination, Il suppose now l
shall have TO set eff 70 the other end of
the town TO see what is the matter wi b
that fellow. His wretched letter has
spoiit my days work. He is q worth
less scamp if there ever was one"
He was still in the same martyr
spirit of sever endurance when he
reached the shabby house that sheltered
his disreputable cousin. As he looked
around the forlorn room, and at it's
still more foslorn occupant, who was
tossing on a miserable bed opposite the
uncurtained window, he felt that it
was very hard that a member of his
own family should be so utterly lost to
all of what was right and fit
ting.
Il am very sorry to trouble you,
Horace" muttered the sick man Chr.
Bernard made an impatient gesture at
the familiar ~address). IF I can't get a
few dollars from somewhere / shall be
turned into the street. II I had only
been well l could have finished that to
day. He pointed to a picture on a liz
tie easel by the window.
Mr.. Bernard slowly unouttoned his
coat, and drew put his pocketbook,
asking, What do you need besides the
remit"
1 have nothing; neither food nor
medicine"
You should be ashamed of your
self, Martin. You ought no to need
help again"
Martin made no reply nor cid he
listen to the warming and exhortations
which accompanied the gift he had re
quested. He had heard them all be
fore, and he consoled himself under the
misfortune Of having to endure them
again by the reflection that preaching
was his cousins business. Unheppily,
Horace Demands curt, contemptuous
manner towards him confirmed this
impression; yet he was not only elo
quent and learned, but had a most sim
cere desire to do his duty, and to ben
eft those with whom he came in con
tact. Now, though he could i'll spare
the time to linger in Martins squaEid
lodging, he sacrificed inclination and
convenience, hoping against hope to be
OF some real service to the n an, be
yond and above supplying his bodily
needs. Alas, his well meant words
were worse than useless, for even his
attitude, as he stood stiff and unbend.
ing in the centre of the ROOM, spoke
loudly Of the disgust he felt. Had not
Martin learned Co hide his feelings, and
60 humble himself in his misfortunes,
he would have ordered his visitor out
of the place. As it was, he endured his
presence in silence.
Nothing l can say affects him, " la
mented Bernard when he reached
home. II do believe has 1t a spark
of gratitude in his composition
What is the matter with him, Hor
acei'
II am afraid I didn't ask" he an.
swered a little penitently. He look d
iIi, I noticed; but he ruined his health
vears & I6 is his own fault Why
E len. I've been helping him eff and on
for more than ten years. The worst of
it is, one never knows whether one is
not doing him more harm than good "
ALI night the thoughtot the wretched
man, al1ue and perhaps dying in his
miserable room haunted Mrs Bernard.
She could not sleep for thinking of
him, and soon after breakfast she set
out to see for herself what allied him.
Il was long past loon when she re.
turned She went at once to her hus
bands study.
Horace" she began, II have been
to see him, and I am sure that without
proper care he will die"
"Who will diet" demanded the min
lister absently, for he was still engaged
on the long deferred task of composing
his M
Your cousin Martin, Horace " she
answered., looking earnestly into his
face, ''let me bring him hOmel'
Bring him he-eH" The ton ok
pressed ~di4pleasure as strongly as eur
prise. You don'G know what Kind Of
a man he isl"
II do, Horace; he has told me ell
'Hs never told me anything Even