Year: 1870

from Cassell's Magazine.


DOT"


1t was cold December night, and
nothing was stirring in the village
street but the wind. This trespass-
er did not content itself with the
public highways, but invaded the pri
vate houses without the slightest
conjunction. 1t roared down the
kitchen chimneys, rushed through
the public rooms, and even forced
itself into the chambers of the sick,
making them shiver in their beds.
1t was so utterly destitute of good
breeding, or the slightest sense of
honor, that not a corner escaped its
scrutiny and having no respect for
persons, it burst into the Postmas-
ter's parlor, driving the smoke i'm
pertinently into the eyes of his wife,
on purpose to make her sneeze. The
former august parsonage stood with
his back to the fire, appearing to be
in perfect luxury of mind, body and
estate. The flame blazed in steady
defiance of the powers of the air,
shedding a ruddy glow on the car
pet, curtains and carefully polished
mahogany; also on the features of
an old man standing behind the Ia
Bile, who returned the Postmaster S
smile unenviously, although it was
rare he did not know cold, hunger
and discomfort, ie1o


You must see, Tom,' urged the
former, that the offer is a capital
one for you. The child will be
boarded, clothed and educated in a
very different way from what she now
is. You have not the means to pro
vide for her. / do not understand
how you can hesitate for moment.


Thank you humbly, sir, said the
old man, and in truth the reverence
and humility of his manner could
not have been greater to the Queen
herself.


Thank you very humbly.'


But the they expressed something
besides Difference. The argument
was clear and unanswerable, yet he
was not convinced, He turned in
dull perplexity to the Postmistress.


Remember, she said, kindly guess
ing his thought, it will not be part
ing from the child; you shall come
as often as you fancy. And what a
pleasure it will be to watch her grow
ing up, so well cared for and happy


Persuasion had more power than
reasoning; yet neither was strong
enough to convince him. There re-
mained some hidden objection, which
words would not, or could not reveal.
His helpless silence reused the Post
masters impatience.


Sir said the old man at length,
I'll speak to Dot


Suppose suggested the Postmis-
tress, we leave the matter for the
present Think of it tonight, and
let us know tomorrow. There is
no need to hurry yourself in decid-
ing


Tom assented gratefully, and with
a profound obesance left the room.
Once out in the open air the wind
met him face to face, and shook and
bufeted him until he thought he
had never known how threadbare
and scanty his coat really was.


He was feign to draw it closely
around him, to prevent the blast pen
etrating to his very heart, thereby
proving itself to be not merely I'M
scrupolous, but unfeeling.


The struggle with the unseen enc
my was desperate, but not SO fierce
or violent as the conflict within, in
the heat of which the chills OF the
outer world we're forgotten.


Fortune had not bestowed upon
Tom brilliant career, nor were his
circumstances the most enyiable.
To beggary was added neglect and
ill-usage; to these were united the
suffering of bodily deformity; and
the sum total of misery produced
rose to a fearful amount. How he
contrived to scramble from boyhood
to manhood, heaven knows-if, in
deed, a creature may be digniffed by
the name of man, who can only be
so called in the sense of his being a
few degrees higher than the beasts
of the field, and many lower than
the angels. Yet this poor soul was
not without his ambition. His high
est aim had been to attain the rank
Of cobbler; he could conceive no
greater happiness; and his desire
was fulfilled. In the service of a
harsh, parsimonious master, in dark
back room, he. cobbled, and was con
tent; but he was doomed to lose
even this qualification. His eyesight
gradually failed, and he was com !
PEELED to give up WORK. He yielded
not only without murmer, but with |
cheerfulness, being accustomed toi
receive thankfully, but to ask moth
ing. A few small shopkeepers, out of
compassion, employed him on er-
rands, and by this means he picked
up a livelihood. In such circum-
stances it is difficult to conceive any
room for happiness-any loop-hole
through which hope, comfort, or joy
could enter. The cripple seemed to
have no heritage in the delights of
a beautiful world Yet to the very
lowest there is always a heaven at
hand.


One bitter night he was returning
home. AS he passed under an arch
way he saw child seated upon a
step, her eyes closed, her face and
hands blue with cold. He bent over
her For the first time in hislife he