The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1901-09-15

gave wild and strange parties far into the
night, he kept open house and no man,
woman or child was ever turned away.
Strange stories went about the country OF
this man. who presided at the head of his
table every night Of the year over a strange
and a new company, who exacted homage
given cheerfully enough-from every one
of them, who never spoke roughly to a
man and never said a harmful word to 4
woman. Some were little afraid of him,
deeming him mad but he was not that
Perchance he saw In every wastrel who
dragged weary limbs to his doors the Bob
Of old days, who had tramped so many
highways without crust.
One thing he never neglected; through
out all the year. summer and winter alike,
fresh flowers were kept upon the grave of
that unknown man who had died at his
feet. A friend found him there once and
spoke to him upon the subject.
"You have good heart, James Jolly"
said the man, ito waste a thought upon
man who was nothing to you-a man you
did not even know"
The false James Jolly was silent for
moment or two; then he looked around with
a smile.
81 do It," he said, because I think it
must be such hard thing to be put away
| in the earth like that-without even a name
without even a soul TO say they were
sorry And So just for his sake, poor chap,
1 pretend l am sorry and weep for him be-
cause there's no one else to do it. Nothing
wrong in that-eh?"
He had contrived, by some means or 9TH
| er, to get hold OF the clothes in which he
! had first come to the house, and in which
his brother had been discovered by the
servants, dead. He kept the ragged things
| locked away secretly in a drawer, and no
| one knew Of their existence. But one night
years after he had taken that false posi-
| ton in the house-he startled everyone by
| appearing in them at the head of his own
! table The usual motley company had been
ushered in, tremblingly, and the board was
laden with good things; Mr.. Jolly came in,
| with his usual courteous smile, but dressed
as they were.
| Something in his eyes silenced whatever
remarks might have been made; the Won
| dering servants waited upon him and upon
his guests as usual, and only whispered to
| each other outside the room. But, as the
| feast was nearing it's end, he started to his
| feet. and stared before him at something
| they could not see.
"Ah-you understand now-do your" he
| cried pointing with shaking finger towards
the end of the room. I'm that other world
to which you have gone have they made
| you like was-like l am now? Have they
| stripped away from you all that was yours
the glory-the honor-the dignity? Have
| you learned that even such as these'-he
waved his hand round the table as he
| 70 Of u fr1, Won
| in your pride never dreamed? The world
| is wide brother-and we all come from it;
10 sin, nor poverty, nor degradation can
stamp out Of us the likeness to the God
who made u.s.
Then suddenly seeming to remember
where he was and by whom he was sur
rounded, he exclaimed wonderingly and
with glance at his dress
Seems like were in clover-doesn't It?
This is what I used to do years and years
| ago before 1 came down to this. It's kind
Of him to let us in out of the cold, isn't it
But he was always like that-that brother
of mine-always good at heart, no matter
what people might say Of him. 1 think-I
think I'll go-go and find him"
With smile upon his face, and stopping
now and then to give kindly word to one
VINO seemed more NTeLCneu imam MS lei
lows, he passed out Of the room, thrusting
aside the startled servants, and left the
house.
When presently they dared to follow him
they found that he had wandered down
to the village and had got into the little
churchyard. He lay prone upon the grave
of that wastrel he had caused to be buried
there; the faint light Of the moon shone
over him and touched softly the line upon