Year: 1873

4 Sir. You've treated me fair, and dom
;, doubt you know the law"


"It's Gospel, if it isn't law" saiC
e Blythe, heartily. "What is your name


my friend?"


''John Brand, Sir; but the names .
, brand to me now, and if Pm to be ship
! ped, I'll take another, if it amt agains
e the law"


"All right" said his sponsor ''tak,


mine, John Blythe It's good, honest


name, and I'll trust you to keep it so
You're going to Philadelphia to friend
have there in the carriage business big
} house; good wages; chance to rise.
write to him and tell him all about you In
| letter you take. He is not to report to


me. If you do well, you'll be glad to lei
J me know it yourself. If you don't I'd
rather not know it at all. III have nc
spies upon you, and III trust you to keep


faith with me. You'll want another suit
and ten dollars in your pocket to make you


feel respectable. So now We'll go and get


fitted, and buy our ticket, and take our
rather damaged wares to new market" "
, When John Blythe went home that
night he laughed little to himself to


think how many of his investments in


wildcat humanity had brought back no


dividends. But he always had faith In the


last one. ''The truth is," his mother had


told the minister that morning, when she


begged him TO withhold her son little


from his prodigal benevolences-"t the


truth is that John regularly strips him.


self once month or so for some plausible


scamp. Three times this season has he
come home without q waistcoat. And
fully expect to see the day when he will


have to lie in bed to have his only shirt


washed, his opulent beggars having
pawned all the rest"


| Blythe still lived with his mother, be-
cause he felt that no other woman would
be happy with the perplexities which his
constant experiments in sociology entailed
on his household, and because he had
never found woman whom he could ask
to share that poverty which might so
easily have been wealth had he chosen to
conduct his moral bookkeeping accord
ing to received usage. In this new rogue
he had taken much stock, as he said. The
man was not only certain to reform, but
to save hundreds of men like himself,
whom he would know how to reach. But
after one brief, ill-spelled, and dirty note
to say that he had found work, and
friend in his employer, he made no sign.
And when year or two of silence had
convinced even Blythe that the faint of
ten years could not be cured by an hours
kindness, he only said, "Well, poor fel-
low, ought to have kept him under my
own eye. There was good in him. But /
suppose life was too dark"


So eight years went by, Blythe going
his daily round of unostentatious duty,
never dreaming that he was a saint in
shabby vestments, and only seeing that
each day he let slip some chance of help
which ha mi oh hox utc
business had not thriven as he had hoped.
Men were a little shy of such Quixots,
genius though he was and he was so GER
tain to refuse cases where the right was
not clearly on his side that his fees grew
fewer year by year. 1t was hard, because
he saw such good that might be done with
money. But he only pinched himself the
more.


There came in time cholera summer.
People fled the city in herds. Almost no
body was left, save the wretches who
could not hy, and whose poverty, igno-
rance, and dirt predetermined them vic
tins. By day and by night, in the stews
and slums of the town, horrible in the
August heat and stenches, John Blythe
watched and worked. His perfect health,
which seemed to place him beyond peril
of infection, his skill in nursing, his ten
NCihCcc, anu buC QulcI COuItSt WHlCu
reused an answering courage in the af
frighted victims, made him Invaluable to
the doctors. He often met another vol
unteer nurse, not less invaluable than
himself, the physicians said. But beyond
civil greetings they had neither time nor
thought to bestOw on each other.


But one morning as Blythe left the hos
pital, after hard and weary nights work,
he overlook his silent fellow-worker. The
latter lifted his hat, and as the clear early
light fell on his face it looked so familiar
and so friendly that Blythe stopped, say
ing. Surely must know you, my good
Sir %


"Yes," said the stranger, heartily,
you are perhaps the only person who
ever did know me. Our acquaintance be-
gan in breach of good manners on my
part, for l asked an important personal
favor before being introduced. You may
remember being solicited to kick me and
let me go on morning much like this ~


John Blythe, the first of the name,
dragged his namesake into friendly
doorway, within whose shelter he first
fell on his neck anu kissed him, and then
sat down on the very dirty stairs and
cried. John Blythe, the second of the
name, leaning on the balustrade, also
cried.


The sponsor was the first to recover his
speech. " History repeats ITSELF" he
said. "Twice found in the street, and a
second time to be invested In my clothes
for We can't take breakfast In these
and again to break the bread that pre-
cedes new career together-for never
will let you out of my sight again, you
rascal-and once more to set you up in
other business-for now you are to be
your own biographer, and tell me tales of
yourself for thousand and one nights.
But be pleased to hold your tongue till
we have both bathed or eaten, or we shall
both be down with the cholera, and the
two best nurses too engaged to attend
u.s."
y But when they had refreshed themselves
with water and fresh linen, and had eaten
their breakfast together in the cellar res
taurant where they had first adopted each
other, the elder entreated the younger to
speak. My boy" he said, we shall
have observed the dramatic unities in a
way to satisfy DR.. johnson himself, when
int hat chair xynt1 FOL mo cfo