The Paducah sun. [volume] (Paducah, Ky.) 1898-1906, 1902-11-27
SAVED BY THE BELLS

literature. He had grown tired Of
hearing the postman come down the
hallway with refusals OF his produc-
tons and was convinced that luck was
against him. Men must have a scnpe-
goat. and when their energies fail of
accomplishing some desired end, pos
sibly through their own blindness or
mlsmanagement, they attribute their
failure to luck.
So Gerald sat and thought OF his
prospects, and II did not require much
effort to cover them all. He cast up
his accounts mentally and balanced his
assets against his liabilities. OF tho
latter. thank God, there were none 10
amount to anything, and Of the former
well, the account balanced nicely.
His watch was silver, and old at that.
His lawbooks were not numerous. and
old lawbooks are drug on the market
at any time. His furniture was rickety
and cheap. So there was nothing to be
gained In trying to sell that. He threw
out his hands In a sort of deprecating
appeal to the world as he sat there In
the darkness What was there to live
forl There was nothing in life that he
could see. He had no intimate friends
he had been too much wrapped up In
his business to make them.
He had many pleasant acquaintance.
but they are rarely friends. A friend Is
one who Is willing to give something
for nothing. and Gerald knew that
who greeted him pleasantly day after
day. He had no family save a distant
cousin or two. who would regard 1t as
a blessing, perhaps, II he were out Of
the way. "0ut Of the wayr' That
phrase woke a train of thought In his
mind. He dropped his head upon his
hands and thought of getting rid OF his
miserable life. He sat there and heard
nothing. The colored Janitor shufled
down the hallway and closed the stair
case window, grumbling the while
about the weights being too heavy and
the windows being likely to open them
selves 'Jes' when they's a showah an
mebbe a bluzzard a-ragln."
But Gerald did not hear him. The
room was growing darker and colder at
the time, but the mans heart was so
much darker and colder that he felt
nothing. He was thoroughly dlscour-
aged, and when a man gets thoroughly
discouraged; when, like this one, his
funds and his prospects are all gone;
when the streets, and the factories, and
the newspapers, are all filed with
forms and names begging for employ
ment, and the discouraged man knows
no trade or profession save the one
which has failed, then comes the desire
TO sleep-to die-to end the futile strug-
gle for existence anyhow, to stop think
ing. 1t goes further than a discussion
of the question, "Is life worth livingT
and II becomes merely a bald state
ment, death were betterr'
Gerald reached for the drawer In his
desk, where his revolver. loaded with
ball. lay close to his hand. 1t would be
a quick way out Of the dlfiiculty-a
momentary twinge Of pain, then bless
ed oblivion.
The o'clock bells were ringing. and
the man rose with bitter smile. The
hooking bells rang on, merrily. merrily
chasing the tones up and down the
scale. He looked at the pistol. cooked
ii. Hark! There came in through that
hall window, which must have opened
itself again, the strains OF Corona
ton" The bells had ceased their
and were ringing out the old
hymn tunes-the tunes his mother used
to play on the old melodeon and sing
to him. He stopped. and the pistol
slowly fell by his side. Then the air
changed. and the chimes rolled the
grand strains OF "Adeste Fideles'-
Oh. come, all ye iaithful-
Was he faithful to himself? Was he
to his manhood?
Joyful and Triumphant
Was there nothing at all in life worth |
living for? Had he not advised dis
friend to cheer up and make |
one more step out TO better things?
The pistol dropped from his hand on to
the table, and the air played by the
bells was now one Of comfort
to the mercy seat,
Fervently kneeL
Through the snow laden twilight the