The Mobridge news. [volume] (Mobridge, Walworth Co., S.D.) 190?-1917, 1910-04-08
CHAPTER XVll-Continued

Gladly would he have died. In hope
less. desperate fashion he prayed for
death. But something -intangible-
still held him from taking his own
lite. He did not perceive that there
we're depths OF misery lower than any
~ which he had yet fallen. Had he
foreseen the traCklesS country oven
which he was to wander. he would
nave laid down his life in despair al
the outset. But the sight vas merci
fully withheld from him. and he
pressed steadily on, unloved and un'
loving, but hugging close to his heart
one delusiye belief-love was still in
the world. Not for him. but for
others, life was still worth the living
How or when this belief escaped
him he knew. He awoke one
day to the awful conviction that ever
this had been taken from him-that
nothing remained between him and
absolute despair. He had been a fool
How could any lOve-even as pure as
theirs-how could even this make life
worth living? II was at best a frail,
uncertain thing, liable to snap at any
III and leave life empty, desc
late-like his own. No, life was a
mistake. Derring could fancy it the
gift of some arch-tiend who lay back,
laughing in his sleeve. as from afar he
watched men rushing here and there,
pushing and scrambling, cheating
swearing, dying-for what? For a
will-o'-the-wisp, a mirage, a child
fable.
Thus despair took hold on him. Bu!
the effect was not what one would
have foreseen. 1t drove him towards
his fellow-men. In his first grief he
had been moody and reserved. speak
ing seldom and then only of the most
matter-of-fact details of work. Now
he sought companionship. He courted
conversation. But his conversation
was sharp and cynical in tone. Nc
subject was o. sacred or too tender
for his wit. 1t was as if the fiend
had taken him far above and had
~vexation of spirit-transient, ieeting
beginning nowhere and ending in
nothing-too t~riiing TO mourn ovel
and surely not worth enthusiasm.
Every one in the office felt the
change. Many a young fellow whC
came under the lash of his tongue
wondered vaguely what had come
over Derring. Hut no one guessed the
cause. For although he seemed sc
open and bluff. he was more reserved
than ever.
Thus TWO. three-siX years passed
Then a change came over him. TIL,
bitterness passed from his heart anC
left only a great pity for mankind
1t was a cruel thing to create "A race
capable of suffering and condemn i
to a life of fruitless striving, Th'
hopelessness and the misery haunte,
him-day and night. He became YER,
gentle. Even towards sin and vice h,
showed a leniency that surprised hi
fellow-workers. His own grief had be
come to him a very small thing-hard
ly worth a heart-throb in comparison
with the curse under which the hu
man race struggled. He would gladl,
have died TO bring a ray of light L
men. He began to understand, dimly
that the sins of the world may be lai
on one man But with the under
standing came a conviction OF tn
hopelessness. Every true man mus
suffer. must stoop to take the burde,
on his shoulders-some to bear
even to a cruel death-but neve
Must one dare hope tia, because h
suffered another should b free.
For himself, as the yec.s Went by
he questioned no mere. Life and it
meaning had reduced itself to this
to help those that are in trouble-thi
much he had gathered from tn
wreck. He knew that 1t was only
fragment. a negative sort OF comfor
But it was better than the blan
apathy of Indifference. 1t was some
thing to live for.