Carolina watchman. [volume] (Salisbury, N.C.) 1871-1937, 1905-09-06

6 IL G would have been hard to
J find three persons who be,
WON lieved there was any good
in Fred Wildburn. y rude, u~ngoyerned
child; a iaWless, vicious youth; a reck-
less, dissipated man. In all his thirty
years of life he had done no good thing
that anyone cvcr remembered of him.
The people OF Milestone were a very
moral sort of people, and did not hest
tate to give this one Ishmaelite to I'M
derstand the impossible gulf thai lay
between themselves and him, both in
time and eternity. Perhaps it tended
to improve his heart and temper: but
I doubt it.
Among the inhabitants was a family
of the name of Upton. From time i'm
memorial there had been a feud be-
tween the Wildburns and Uptons, kept
alive and aggravated by each success
siye generation. A great many years
before a Wildburn and an Upton had
married sisters. and through some nice
BIZ of diplomacy on the part of Upton.
his wife was made heiress to the pa
Ternal fortune. and the wife of Wild
burn cut eff With 4 paltry hundred
dollars.
Later, Henry Upton had succeeded in
getting the whole of Il large legacy,
left by some distant relative. which
should have been equally divided be-
tween Fred Wildburn and himself.
Naturally. this tended to widen the
breach, and fearful and bitter were the
vows of vengeance which Fred
breathed against Upton.
Indeed. his ungovernable passion
might have led him to some act of
personal violence, but for one restrain
ing influence.
Ten years before the commencement
Of our tale. when Fred Wildburn was
about twenty years old. he had one of
his wrists broken in Il fight he had
himself provoked. His mother was,
Il had been for years, a bedridden
invalid, with an intellect weakened
by long illness and abusc-for her hus-
band drank heavily at times. ard liquor
made him Wild and furious.
The broken limb was set by a SUI
geon in a ~neighboring town: but the
prospect Of payment being exceedingly
small, he paid very little subsequent
attention to his patient. It was warm
weather. and the arm was badly torn
and bruised besides, and needed daily
attention. Good, charitable. pious peo-
pie. who gave munificently for the
amelioration of the heather thousands
of miles away. turned with disgust
from this heather at their own doors.
Iimid women shrank from entering
the house. because, perchance, old
Wildburn might be on one of his "ca-
rouses;;' and so the bruises became
infamed. and the danger that the arm
would have to como off grew immi-
nent. Fred wasn't used to bearing
pain. and raved fearfully, while the
weak-minded invalid cried and fretted
by turns. and Wildburn senior drank
more ~perseveringly than ever.
Into this pandemonium there came
one morning Il slight, delicate girl,
bearing a little roll Of snowy linen in
her hands.
Il have come 10 dress your arm,
Fred" size said, quietly. laying aside
her white sunbonnet, and revealing a
thin. rather pale face. with steady,
fearless brown eyes.
"Whc sent you here, Bessie Brar-
DOM" asked the elder Wildburn. in a
clustering voice.
"No one, sir. / came because I
thought it right for me to come.
Frederick will lose his arm, unless it
is cared for speedily"
"Let him lose it, them was the
gruff answer.
Not if l can help it, sir.
And the brown eyes We're lifted fear
lessly to his face.
Muttering something about "meddling
~neighDors." he seized his hat and stag
gered out of the room, and Bessie at
once set herself to The work of caring
for the wounded arm.
It vas !; shocking sight, and the firm
lips grew just Il little white as she
stripped off the matted bandages; but
her white fingers were steady and cool,
as she carefully washed the arm,
bathed it in some liniment she had
brought with he1. and swathed it nice
ly and carefully i'll the cool, soft linen
she had brought for the purpose.
"WIly, it doesn't feel like the same
ARM Fred exclaimed. when she had
finished; and i~nyolunta@ily be glanced