Reade_It_is_Never_Too_Late_to_Mend.txt topic ['13', '324', '378', '393']
; "this is
called a house; its use is to protect us from the weather at night;
all you have to do is to notice which way the wind blows, and go and
lie down on the opposite side of the house and there you are.
again, when you are cold, you will find a number of wooden articles in
the house. go in, you bring them out and burn them and are warm."
then produced what he had always considered the _chef d'oeuvre_
of the white races, a box of lucifer matches; this, too, was a present
from . " what clever fellows they are," said he, "they carry
about fire, which is fire or not fire at the fortunate possessor's
will;" and he let off a lucifer. the tribe admired, but doubted
whether all those little sticks had the same marvelous property and
would become fire in the hour of need; sneered at their
incredulity, and let them all off one by one in a series of
preliminary experiments; this impaired their future usefulness.
short, they settled there; one or two's heads had to be broken for
killing the breeders for dinner, and that practice stopped; but the
pot-bellied youngsters generally celebrated the birth of a lamb by
spearing it. slept on the lee side of the house, warmed at night
by the chairs and tables, etc., which they lighted. got on very
nicely, only one fine morning, without the slightest warning,
whir-r-r-r they all went off to the woods, and all, and never
returned. remaining bullocks strayed devious, and the douce
blandly absorbed the sheep.
and imperfect as my sketch of this is, give it a place in
your notebook of sketches, for in a few years the savage
will breathe only in these pages, and the plow will erase his
very grave, his milmeridien.
brutus lived; but the form and strength he had abused were gone--he is
the shape of a note of interrogation, and by a coincidence is now an
"asker," i.e., he begs, receives alms, and sets on a gang of burglars,
with whom he is in league, to rob the good that show him
pity.
mephistopheles came suddenly to grief; when gold was found in
he crossed over to that port and robbed. day he robbed the tent of
an old man, a native of the colony, who was digging there with his
son, a lad of fifteen. these currency lads are very sharp and
determined. youngster caught a glimpse of the retiring thief and
followed him and saw him enter a tent. watched at the entrance, and
when mephistopheles came out again, he put a pistol to the man's
breast and shot him dead without a word of remonstrance, accusation or
explanation.
few diggers ran out of their claims. " our gold is not on him,"
says the youngster, " have made a mistake."
gold was found on the carcass, and the diggers went coolly back to
their work.
youngster went directly to the commissioner and told him what he
had done. " don't see that am called on to interfere," replied that
functionary; "he was taken in the act; you have buried him, of
course."
" . let him lie for whoever chose to own him."
" let him lie? , when there is a printed order from the
government stuck over the whole mine that nobody is to leave carrion
about! go off directly and bury your carrion or you will get into
trouble, young man." the official's manner became harsh and
threatening.
ever a man was "shot like a dog," surely the assassin of was.
. in the prison refused his food, and fell into a deep
depression; but the third day he revived, and fell to scheming again.
sent to . and offered to give him a long lease of his old
house if he would but be absent from the trial. was a sore
temptation to the old man. meantime stronger measures were taken
in his defense and without consulting him.
evening that and were in the garden at ,
suddenly an old woman came toward them with slow and hesitating steps.
fled at the sight of her--she hated the very name this old woman
bore. stood his ground, looking sheepish; the old woman stood
before him trembling violently and fighting against her tears.
could not speak, but held out a letter to him. took it, the ink was
rusty, it was written twenty years ago; it was from his mother to her
neighbor, . , then on a visit at , telling her how
young had fought for and protected her against a band of drunken
ruffians, and how grateful she was.
" do hope, dame, he will be as good friends with my lads when
they are men as you and have been this many a day."
did not speak for a long time. held the letter, and it
trembled a little in his hand. looked at the old woman, standing a
piteous, silent supplicant. ". ," said he, scarce above a
whisper, "give me this letter, if you will be so good. have not got
her handwriting, except our names in the ."
gave him the letter half reluctantly, and looked fearfully and
inquiringly in his face. smiled kindly, and a sort of proud curl
came for a moment to his lip, and the woman read the man. royal
rustic would not have taken the letter if he had not granted the
mother's unspoken prayer.
" bless you both!" said she, and went on her way.
assizes came, and ' two plaintiffs both were absent:
gone to , and forfeited his recognizances and
had, to pay a hundred pound for it. defendants were freed.
said to himself, " will not keep faith with me." he
did not know his man. had a conscience, though an oblique one.
promise from him was sacred in his own eyes. man came to
and left a hundred pound in a letter for . he went
on to , and gave him a parcel and a note. parcel contained the
title-deeds of the house; and the note said: " the house and the
furniture and pay me what you consider they are worth. , old man,
think you might take your curse off me, for have never known a heart
at rest since you laid it on me, and you see now our case is
altered--you have a home now and has none."
the old man was softened, and he wrote a line in reply, and said:
" just men shall value the house and furniture, and will pay,
etc., etc. now adversity to profit--repent and prosper.
wishes you no ill from this day, but rather good." died, as
mortal feelings are apt to die, an enmity its owners thought immortal.
steam-vessel glided down the bound for . the
deck were to be seen a little girl crying bitterly--this was --a
stalwart, yeoman-like figure, who stood unmoved as the shores glided
by,
solum forti patria,
and an old woman who held his arm as if she needed to feel him at the
moment of leaving her native land. old woman had hated and
denounced his sins, and there was scarce a point of morality on which
she thoroughly agreed with him. at threescore years and ten she
left her native land with two sole objects--to comfort this stout man,
and win him to repentance.
" shall repent," said she to herself. " now his eyes are
opening, his heart is softening. times he has said to me, '
is a better man than am.' will repent. he
said to me, have thought too little of you, and too much where it
was a sin for me even to look.' will repent--his voice is
softer--he bears no malice--he blames none but himself. is never
too late to mend. will repent, and shall see him happy and lay my
old bones to rest contented, though not where thought to lay them,
in churchyard."
, you do well to hold that quaint little old figure with that strong
arm closer to you than you have done this many years, ay, since you
were a curly-headed boy. is a good sign, ; on neither side of
the equator shall you ever find a friend like her.
" other love is mockery and deceit.
' like the mirage of the desert that appears
cool refreshing water, and allures
thirsty traveler, but flies anon
leaves him disappointed, wondering
fair a vision should so futile prove.
mother's love is like unto a well
and kept secret, a deep-hidden fount
flows when every other spring is dry."*
* .
, left to his own resources, practices at the
in his old neighborhood, and drinks with all his clients, who
are of the lowest imaginable order. complains that "he can't peck,"
yet continues the cause of his infirmity, living almost entirely upon
cock-a-doodle broth--eggs beat up in brandy and a little water.
, he is never less alone than when alone; with this difference,
that the companions of . .'s solitude do not add to the pleasure of
his existence. somebody can make him see that it is never too
late to mend, this little rogue, fool and sot will "shut up like a
knife some day" (so says a medical friend), and then it will be too
late.
is nine in the evening. little party is collected of farmers and
their wives and daughters. . rises and says, "
must go home." of hostess. " will be at home by
now."
", wait till he comes for you."
", he won't come, for fear of shortening my pleasure."
then explains that is so foolish that he never will go
into the house when she is not in it. " here is a drizzle come on,
and there he will be sitting out in it, know, if don't go and
drive him in."
justify the prediction. good wife finds her husband sitting
on the gate kicking his heels quite contented and peaceable, only he
would not pay the house the compliment of going into it when she was
not there. told her once he looked on it as no better than a
coal-hole when she was not shining up and down it.
. .-- have been some years married. calm but very tender
conjugal love sits at this innocent hearth.
has made a great concession for an . has solemnly
deposited before witnesses his sobriquet of " ," not (he
was careful to explain) because he found the great nugget, nor because
the meadow he bought in for two hundred pounds has just been
sold by for twelve thousand pounds, but on account of his
being 's husband.
is very happy. the pleasure of loving and being
loved, she is in her place in creation. class of women (a very
large one) to which she belongs comes into the world to make others
happy. is skillful at this and very successful. makes
everybody happy round her, "and that is _so_ pleasant." makes
the man she loves happy, and that is delightful.
reader shall laugh at her; my unfriendly critic shall sneer at her.
a heroine of a novel she deserves it; but hope for their own
sakes neither will undervalue the original in their passage through
life. average women are not the spice of fiction, but they are
the salt of real life.
is godfather to 's little boy.
can stand by his brother's side and look without compunction on
's grave, and think without an unmanly shudder of his
own.