Waterbury evening Democrat., 1903-04-09
"A Miracle of Madness
 By CHARLES EUGENE BANKS
EUGENE BANKS

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 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 breeding 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. l Christmas eve. Without, the snow- flakes 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- trians; bundles hidden away in hooks and recesses in the homes of rich and l poor-bundles everywhere. No, not everywhere. There was one room in the great city at the door of which no bundle had been laid. It 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 a strange, questioning light, like that which comes into the eyes of frightened child.
 The woman gently stroked the vast. ed fingers, and bending her gaze stead lily upon him. said slowly:
 "Jacic-dear old Jack-don't you know mel"
 3&fistens Dack.N shs continued ear nestly; @I have come for you; we are going homo, to. the old home in the country where the air is clear and the sun shines almcS9 dttways, you remem- Der how brighA tha san used to shine there, dont you, Jack?"
 "I thought heard music" he said faint1y. "There it Is again; the cry <@& Sc.E En4,1 &on 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. "I must bring him back tonight" she whispered; tonight, or feel that shall fail. He thought he heard whippoorwill singing. If 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 be saved. God give me strength for the, task!'
 She began to sing softly:
 " Home again, home again, from
 foreign shore,
 And, oh, it fills my soul with joy to
 meet my friends once more.'" 7,
 A bell in a church tower rang out the hour of nine. He turned suddenly on his pillow and clutching her arm con- vulsively, 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 8 hundred times, and you will not break your word"
 He struggled to a 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.
 "Jack, I am going to ask you ques- tion and I want you to answer me. It is very important, Jack. Do you know what night this is? Try and remember. It is night you used to love. It is Christmas eve, Jack; Christ mas eve"
 "Christ's evening"" he murmured dreamily; "the night for telling sto- ries-stories of home and love. Did we not once tell stories on this night?"
 ''Yes, Jack, yes, and we two will tell a story together. I want you to help me all you can, al you used to dowhen we sat before the fireplace in the old house long ago.
 Before the freplace-the old house long ago." .... t.E
 "Yes, yes, just as we used to, Jack, when we were happy children"
 Happy children-I remember"
 "Once on time, Jack, there was g. grand old forest and through it wound a shining river, and in it's re- cesses was beautiful lake," The in-. tense earnestness of her voice, and the frequent repetition of his name, ar rested his attention, and he seemed to follow her. Something like the gleam of consciousness came into his eyes. She looked at him steadily and continued And there were green hills and wide meadows and an old