Amador ledger., 1906-05-25
AND THEY NEVER KNEW.
A Little Story of Real Life.

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The great financier buried his face
in his hands as great food of bitter
ness crowded his soul. He had locked
the door Of his private Office and de-
MED himself to every one all morning,
just as years before he had shut the
world and its people from his heart.
When but a child he had been
branded as a "bad boy" and other
children were forbidden to play with
him. He had grown up asking him.
self why no one loved him. That he
was bad he had learned as a parrot
would, but the real meaning was too
vague to be understood by his childish
mind.
At school no one had understood
him. Once, when he was disobedient,
a plan had been conceived to punish
his favorite teacher. He was so
grieved that he ran away for fear he
might again cause pain or punishment
to the one he loved. No one came and
asked why he did so-he was expelled.
That to starve, to die. was better
than to live without sympathy, had
been his early conclusion, for truly
was he being eaten up with gnawing
hunger for sympathy and companion
ship.
Once, when he was a young business
man, successful, indeed, because he
gave his life-his whole energy-to
work, some one started a report that
he was dishonest in a deal.
He cried out against the injustice
Of world which would not see. He
was tried, and the judge, who, no
doubt, meant to be honest, decided
against him, because circumstances
were not in his favor.
Not one came to say, 'I know, 1 be-
lieve you are honest" No wonder,
like haunted thing which would fly
to shelter from the eyes of the world,
he lived alone in his grief of being
misunderstood
Years after, when it was found that
he was honest, that he had been falsely
accused, no one came to rejoice with
him-and he cared but little, but real
lied anew how little the world cared
to be just.
His eyes were kind and seemed to
appeal to you to respond, but his
mouth was set and firm, and lines,
which once expressed sweetness, had
now deepened into burrows of care and
coldness.
AS he sat there dreaming his life
over, he wondered who was ever de-
MED sympathy as he.
A rap came on the door, and he ad-
mitted his bookkeeper, a woman. She
looked frightened, and there were
traces of tears in her eyes.
He asked her to be seated. Any one
IN trouble was welcome, particularly
this woman, whom he had more than
admired.
Il have come" she said, ''to ask
what you are going to do with me-
There is money missing from the safe.
There is no way to prove my inno-
cence, for 1 believe 1 alone have the
and 1 am too poor to re-
turn the money. OF course, you can
not know or understand that 1 would
not steal''-and the woman wept bit
terly.
"Why do you say 1 cannot under
stand?" he asked.
81 do not know" she said. 81 only
felt you would not-no one ever does,
We are born in one sphere and forced
to live in another, where it is all mis-
trust and bitterness
81 do know; l do understand" he
replied.
The woman looked at him through
her tears and saw two great eyes of
kindness, yet she dared not believe
You really do not think I took the
money" she asked.
"And if 1 didn't would you care,
other than for the disgrace?"
"Yes, oh yes! I should want you
to think me honest, because 1 know |
how you hate dishonesty"
"Then do believe in your innocence
There are none who can so sympa-
thise as those who have suffered, and
only hope you may never suffer as
[ have"
But you, sir, are rich," she said.
Eyes, in money, but as for friends
have none"
How she wished to tell him how she |
admired and loved himi But she was |
woman, and only a bookkeeper. so |
She thanked him for his trust in her.
but forgot to offer him the word of |
and he, thinking no one
could love him, mistock her modesty |
Tor Indifference.
So the word which trembled on his |
ips when he saw her troubled was
eft unSaid.