The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1903-05-14
A Miracle
OF Madness
BY
CHARLES EUGENE BANKS


HUNDREDS of people knew Jack
Golden, head salesman on the road
for Brown, Tucker & Co., New York
OF old New England stock he
had started as travelling man
while yet a beardless youth, and
with the chances hard against him
had succeeded. He appeared to be one
of the happiest of men. But there
were times when he would become
suddenly possessed of the most pro-
found melancholy, and withdrawing
himself from all he would give him
self up to brooding over some real or
fancied trouble.
The strange moods seemed to grow
on him as time passed, recurring at
shorter and shorter intervals, and he
suddenly resigned his position.
Christmas eve. Without, the snow
fakes drifted down the quiet air like
apple blossoms in the verdant spring.
On every side were evidences of the
spirit of giving: bundles piled in door,
ways; bundles in the arms of pedes-
{ DuluiSS away III AoohS
and recesses in the homes of rich and
poor-bundles everywhere. No, not
everywhere. There was one room
in the great city at the door of which
no bundle had been laid. 1t was high
up in an old weather-beaten building,
and beside it woman holding in
her thin, blue-veined hands the long,
gaunt fingers of sleeping man. She
was thin and pale with continued
watching, but beautiful woman still,
and her eyes bent upon the face before
her were full of compassion and solic-
itude. The face of the man was
mournfully sad, and the deep lines
across the forehead and about the
mouth told of great mental suffering.
The eyes that looked up to the
woman were large and dark, but they
held strange, questioning light, like
that which comes into the eyes, of a
frightened child.
The woman gently stroked the vast
ed fingers, and bending her gaze stead
lily upon him, said slowly:
"Jack-dear old Jack-don't you
know me?"
-"Listen, jack" she continued ear
nestly; Il have come for you; we are
going home, to the old home in the
country where the air is clear and the
sun shines almost always; you remem-
Der how bright the sun used to shine
there, don't you, Jack?"
ri I 81
family. "There it is again; the cry
of whippoorwill-it is faint and far
away-but sweet-very sweet"
She pressed the thin fingers assur-
ingly and went to the window and
peered out into the night. How she
fought the sobs back upon her heart.
II must bring him back tonight" she
whispered; tonight, or l feel that
shall fail. He Thought he heard a
whippoorwill singing. If l can only
lead him to think of his childhood, in
imagination to live his life over again
and pass in safety the point where his
reason failed, the doctor says he may
be saved. God give me strength fo,
the task!"
She began to sing softly:
Home again, home again, from q
foreign shore,
And, oh, it fills my soul with joy to
meet my friends once more"
A bell in church tower rang out the
hour of nine. He turned suddenly on
his pillow and clutching her arm con-
yulsively, muttered:
Don't you hear them! don't you
hear them! the bells! the bells!
They are coming to take me away
but they shall not-you will not let
them-you have promised a hundred
times, and you will not break your
word"
he struggled to sitting posture and
his gaunt, wasted figure, trembling
with fear, was weird enough to appall
the stoutest heart. But the brave,
patient woman never lost courage for
an instant, but gently forcing him
back upon the pillows, she fell on her
knees beside him, soothing him with
gentle touches.
'SAAs : oih B oAHS " dSh yOu d QueS-
tion and l want you to answer me.
1t is very important, Jack. Do YOU
know what night this is? Try and
remember. 1t is a night you used to
love. 1t is Christmas eve, Jack; Christ
mas eve."
"Christ's evening"" he murmured
oreamily; "the night for telling sto-
ries-stories of home and love. Did
we not once tell stories on this night p''
Yes, Jack, yes, and we two will tell
story together. want you to help
me all you can, as you used to do when
we sat before the fireplace in the old
house long ago"
Before the fireplace-the old house
~-long ago."
Yes. yes, just as we used to. Jack.
when we were happy children"
Happy children remember.
'once on time, Jack, there was a
grand old forest, and through II
wound a shining river, and in its re-
eesses was beautiful lake." The in
tense earnestness of her voice, and the