Waterbury evening Democrat., 1906-05-14


 was dead, sor, an he'd one child-a I little lad O two years an beautiful. One day the boy went out with his nurse, an where farther nobody knew. He never came back. Up an down, over an across, they looked for him night an day, but were no wiser. A month went by an not sight or sign O. him, an their hope failed. One day the father he got note-I remember reading it in the papers, sor-an' 1t was a call for ransom money $100, 0,O0O."
 Kidnapped" Trove exclaimed, with much interest.
 He was, sor," the clock tinker re- sumed. ''The father he was up to his neck in trouble then, for he was unable to raise the money. He had Quarreled with an older brother, whose help would have been sufficient. We'll, God save us all, twas the old story O pride an bitterness! He sought no help O him. A year an half passes an a gusty night O midwinter the bank burns. Books, papers, everything is destroyed. Now the poor man has lost his occupation. A week more an his good name is gone. A month an he's homeless. A whisper goes down the long path O gossip. Was he thief an had he burned the records O his crime The scene changes, an let me count the swift, relentless years"
 The old man paused moment, look ing up thoughtfully.
 "Well, say ten or mayhap a dozen passed, or more or less it matters lit tie. Boy an man. where were they ? Oh, the sad world, sor! To all that knew them they were as people buried 1 in their graves. Think O this drown ing in the flood O years-the stately ships sunk an rotting in oblivion. Some word of it, sor, may we'll go into thy book"
 The tinker paused moment, light ing his pipe, and after puff or two went on with the tale.
 "It is winter day in great city. There are buildings an crowds an busy streets an sleet in the bitter wind. I am there, an me path is one O many crossing each other like-well. sor, like lines on slate, if thou vert to make 10000 O them an both eyes shut. I am walking slowly, an To, there is the banker. I meet him face to face-an i'll clad, haggard, cold, forgotten creature I speak to him.
 "'The blessed Lord have mercy on thee said. ...
 "'For meeting thee?' said the poor man. What is thy nameT
 "'Roderick Darrell
 "An' r. said he sadly, am one O the lost in hell. Art thou the deyil?'
 "sNay, this hand O mine hath open ed thy door an blacked thy boots for thee often said I. 'Dost thou not re- member?' -
 ".Dimly. It was long time ago. he answered
 we said more, sor, but that is no part O the story. Very well! I went with him to his lodgings-a little cold room in a garret-an' there, alone with me. he gave account of himself. He had shoveled an dug an lifted an run errands until his strength was low an the weight of his hand burden. What hope for him? What way to earn living? .N--
 "'Have courage, man. said to him. Thou shalt learn to mend clocks. It's light an decent work, an one may live by 1t an see much O the world
 There was an old clock, sor, in heap O rubbish that lay in a corner. took 1t apart, and soon he saw the of ice of each wheel an pinion an the lnfirmity that stopped them an the surgery to make them sound. tarried long in the great city, an every even- ing we were together in the little room. bought him a kit O tools an some brass, an we would shatter the clock works an build them up again until he had skill, sor. to make or mend.
 "'Me good friend said he one even- Ing after we had been long time at work, I wish thou couldst teach me bow to mend broken life. For Gods sake. help me. I am fainting under . great burden
 "'what can doT said to him.
 Then. sor. he went over his story with me from beginning to end. It was an impressive. sacred confidence. An. boy, it would be dishonor to tell thee bis name-but his story. that I may tell thee. changing the detail so It may never add straw to his bur len. shall quote him in substance only an follow the long habit O me own tongue.
 "'weIl. ye remember how me son was taken said he. I could not raise the ransom. try as I would. Now, .arge sums were in me keeping an I fell I remember that day. An. man, the devil seemed to whisper to me. But. God forgive. 1t was for love that fell. Little by little I began to take the money I must have an cover it's absence. 1 said to meself. some time I'll pay it back-that ancient sophlstry O the devil When me thieving had gone far an near its goal the bank burned AS Gods me witness I'd no hand in that. weighed the chances an expected to go to prison-well. say, for ten years at least. | must suffer in