Year: 1874

VI course De SOlu at great SacrlHce, ana
after all the struggles / have made, my
family will again be homeless. 1t is very
hard. only wish you had to earn your
money as | do mine; you might then
know something of the hard life of a
poor man. If you could only in imagina-
ton put yourself in my place, think you
would have little mercy on me-"


at is useless talking; I extended this
one year and can do so no longer" re-
piled Mr. Merton, as he turned to his
desk and continued writing.


The poor man rose from his seat and
walked sadly out of Mr.. Merton's office !;
his last hope was gone. He had just re-
covered from long fit of sickness, which
had swallowed up the means by which he
had intended to make the last payment
on his house. True, tnat gentleman had
waited one year, when he had failed to
meet the demand, owing to illness in his
family, and he had felt very much obliged
to him for doing So This year he had
been laid up for several months, during
which time he could earn nothing, and all
his savings were then neeued for the sup
port of himself and family. Again he
failed, and would again be homeless, and
have to begin the world anew. Had
heaven forsaken him and given him over
to the mercies of the wicked?


After he had left the Office, Mr.. Mer-
ton could not drive away from his thoughts
that remark to which the poor man in his
grief had given utterance Il wish you
had to earn your money as | do mine"


In the midst of row of figures, Put
yourself in my place. intruded.


Once after it had crossed his mind, he
laid down his pen saying, "Well, | think
l should find it rather hard | have a
mind to drop in there this afternoon, and
see how it fares with his family; that
man has reused my curiosity"


About five o'clock he put on a gray
wig and some old, cast off clothes, walked
to the residence of Mr.. Bishop, and knock
ed at the door. Mrs. Bishop, a pale,
weary looking woman, opened it; the
poor old man requested permission to en-
ter and rest awhile, saying he was very
tired with his long journey, for he had
walked many miles that day.


Mrs. Bishop cordially invited him in
and gave him the best seat the room af-
forded. Then she began to make prepa-
rations for tea. The old man watched
her attentively. He saw there was no
elasticity in her step, no hope in her
movement; and pity for her began to
steal into his heart When her husband
entered, her features began to relax into a
smile, and she forced cheerfulness into
her manner. The traveller noticed it all 4:
and he felt himself forced to admire this
woman who could assume a cheerfulness
she did not feel for her husbands sake.
After the table was spread, there was
nothing on it but bread, butter and tea.
They invited the stranger to eat with
them saying, "We have not much to Of
Ter you, but cup of tea will refresh you
after your long Journey"


He accepted their hospitality, and as
they discussed the frugal meal, he led
them, without seeming to do so, to talk of
their affairs


"l bought this piece of land" said Mr.
Bishop, "at very low price, and instead
OF waiting, as | ought to have done. until
| had saved the money to build, | thought
L would borrow two hundred dollars. The
interest on the money would not be near,
ly as much as the rent l was paying, and
| would be saving something by doing it.
did not think there would be any diff
Guilty in paying the borrowed money. But
the first year my wife and one of nv
children were sick, and the expenses left
me without the means to pay the debt.
Mr.. Merton agreed to wait another wear,
IT l would pay the interest, which | did
This year | was fer several months una
BILE to work at my trade and earn any
thing; and OF course when pay day comes
around, and that is very soon, | shall
again be unable to meet the demand"


"But, said the stranger, will rot Mr..
Merton wait another year, if you make all
the circumstances known to him?"


"No, sir," replied Mr.. Bishop, Il saw
him this morning, and he said he must
have the money, or should be obliged to
foreclose"


"He must be very hard hearted" re-
piled the traveller.


Not necessarily so, said Mr.. Bishop.
The fact is, these rich men know moth
lug OF the struggles of the poor. They
are men just like the rest of mankind.
and | am sure if they but had the faint
est idea of what the poor have to pass
through, their hearts and their purses
would op n. You know it has passed in
to proverb, "When a poor man needs
assistance, he should apply to the poor"
The reason Is obvious. The poor only
know the curse of poverty. They know
how heavily it falls, crushing the spirit
out OF a man; and to use my favorite ex-
preston, they can at once put themselv es
In the unfortunate ones place and appre-
clate his difficulties. And are therefore
always ready to render assistance as far as
they are able; and if Mr. Merton had the
least idea Of what | and my family had to
pass through, think he would be willing
to wait several years for his money, rath
er than distress u"


With what emotion the stranger listen
ed may be imagined A new world was
being opened to him. He was passing
through an experience that had never
been his before. Shortly after the con-
clusion of the meal, he rose to take his
leave, thanking Mr.. and Mrs. Bishop for
their kind hospitality They invited him
to stay all night, telling him he was
welcome to what they had.


He thanked them and said. II will
tresspass on your Kindness no longer. |
think L can reach the next village before
dark, and be so much further on nv
journey"


Mr.. Merton did not sleep much that
night, he lay awake thinking. He had
received new revelation The poor had
always been associated in his mind with
stupidity and ignorance, and the first
poor family he had visited he found far
in advance, in intelligent sympathy and
real politeness, of the exquisite and fash
lonable butterflies of the day.


The next day boy called at the cot
tage, and left a package Ein large blue
envelope, addressed to Mr.. Bishop.


Mrs. Bishop was very much alarmed
when she took it; for large blue envelones