Newspaper Page Text
18 PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING, AT
RENDEZVOUS OP DISTRIBUTION, VA.,
CONVALESCENT CAMP, VA-.,
ON THE FOLLOWING TERMS :
Subscription for One Year- "".".". I'oO
i^ AjaAVUY in ADVANC E.
POSTAGE ON THE JOURNAL is Twenty Cents m
yew-iJayible quarterly, in advance, at place of de-
BY MAY MORRIS
♦• Bui when tluru doest aln* let notthy left hand know what
thy right hand doe<A."-MATT. vi. US.
The beggar's form Is at thy door,
O pity thou, and give the poor \
Wilt now, lorn off thy table,.share
Thy bounty with that man of care?
Hti children look with tearful eye
» O Kive us food, we starve, we die! '
With plenty is thy board well spread-
They ask, receive-thou gWest bread.
WhT 1« «•', that a peaceful smile
1h pa<sLlr" on thy lace the while?
Whyi^tny soulso filled with love?
Why does thy heart in pity move?
$ cm dost not wish the world to know
That thou dost on the poor bestow;
From t hem, expect not thy w>ward-
Thvmotlve'B pure-it comes from God.
Thou?when the last, dread day^shat I come^
ye gaX 6
in nitv thou, my life, didst save;
A\hirst> ye sought the lucid .tream-
and I was clothed by thee;
Sick?andye ministered to me;
In prison lay with letters bound, uQd .
Ye found me there, my spirit cheered,
And when I for thy kindness P™ 86 ?. ,
Thou bad'st my voice to Heaven be raised,
Reward awaits at ■li'«« s ' "^^
From Ballou's Dollar Monthly.
BY ETTA WESTON.
"Yes, Marion, thou~gi7l7e sounded the, lowest
denths of sin, if a kindly voice and a
hand could call him back to manliness and truth,
mine should not be withheld."
« Even if the touch should bring pollution?
"That only can pollute which defiles the soul.
"So yours should be the hand and voice to
welcome back this devotee of sin, though all the
world should scorn such voluntary contamina
tion? What if by this ultra benevolence of
yours, Edith, character and friends be lost?
Dear Marion, did I know of ore humrtn heart.
though wretched from its own guilt, and gather- |
ing the harvest sown by its own evil ways alone,
did that degraded but immortal soul yearn tor
its lost purity and truth- did it cast one longing I
glance upward from its depths of misery and I
.>rime towards its father's house, my hand should
beckon, my voice should cheer, though all the I
world pass by on the other side."
in the uncertain hope of bringing back perhaps I
one child of sin-one, the gold of whose better
life, that your highest ((forts could only smooth
embedded hopelessly in the bawr metal of habit,
and its natural proneness to sin."
though buried in the darkness of human 8» lfc ---
Gethsemane, whose sacred lips gave the divine i
command, « Eove thy neighbor ns thyself,' who I
promised paradise to the repentant thief, he. is
love me keep hiy commandments?' "
The fair speaker had risen in her earnestness I
from her seat beside her companion, and turning j
partly round, revealed to the young man who
was standing unnoticed a short distance from
them, a face so pure and serene in its expression,
that he involuntarily stepped back with an air
gent paths of human life.
The three were whiling away a dull November I
afternoon in the public picture-gallery of one ol
unlike in expression as were their apparent hab- I
voices had arrested the careless steps of him who,
unknown to them, had entered the saloon, were
seated before a Magdalen, by Gnido, and the lace
with its wondrous though mournful beauty, had
losted the conversation which the reader has
idy heard in part,
ey were speaking of those erring and forsa
ones, cast out for some discovered guilt, less
aps, than many a concealed sin still fester
in the heart of some favorite of fortune—and
•ules of action toward the outcast and forlorn
rescribed by the two speakers were as di
e as the faces that were glowing in the earn
ess of their animated discussion. The rich
m of Marion Lee, clear, but cold as tho false
lments she uttered, pleaded strongly for the
lity of social position—the fear of contami
on from contact with the fallen and degraded.
1 as the picture of their shame rose before
clear eyes of Edith Graham, iookx g *
in her own.
Edith, with one delicate band pressed close
upon her bosom, a* was her wont, the other held
lovingly towards her friend, bad spoken her allo
gianee to her Divine Master with a low and
earnest emphasis, which told, in tho very dis
tinctness of her utterance, the firmness of prin
ciple and purpose of one whose hopes and aims
go up beyond the stars, xfer face was very
beautiful. The brow was low, but broad and
prominent, and tho graceful curve of the white
temples harmonized in sweetness and serenity
with the firm yet delicate raoutb. The eyes,
whose wondrous beauty spread a glorious illu
mination over the whole countenance, were of
that uudefinable tint that seems to change with
every passing thought. The brows and lashes
were of jetty blackness, though the hair was of
a warm chestnut huo, shining where the light
fell across it, like threads of burnished gold. It
was drawn smoothly away from the temples,
and was woven around tho back of th,e sin.dlyet
beautifully formed head, in a net-work of rich
and massive b'fdds, in strong contrast with the
heavy locks that graced like a coronet the white
forehead of Marion Lee. A sense of harmony
seemed to pervade her wholo presence—a com
pleteness of symmetry that was to the eye what
melody is to the ear, as if the fullness of her
beauty was but the outward correspondence of
her inner life.
In strange contrast with the calm serenity of
Edith Graham, was the pale, half-averted face of
the young man who stood unnoticed behind
them. He had entered with so quiet a step, that
his presence was unobserved by the two occu
pants of the large saloon. Pausing before the
» Returning Prodigal," a picture that seemed to
possess for him a wonderful fascination, he stood
with a sud, despairing gaze, his head slightly
bowed, and his arms folded tightly across his
breast, and with such an air of sorrowful abstrac
tion, that he seemed utterly unconscious of all
surrounding objects. But tho tones of Edith
Graham, in her plea for tho guilty and forlorn,
had fallen on his ear like ft voice from heaven,
and the breathless earnestness with which he
listened, told how like food to the famishing
were the words of that noble girl.
The face turned so eagerly toward tho speaker,
far surpassed in its power of fascination the
beautiful creations of art that graced the walls
around him. But like a cloud darkening some
landscape of glorious beauty, there rested on the
pale but handsome features a deoc and settled
gloom. The restlessness of tho large and mourn
ful eyes, and the deep lines about the lips, told
of familiarity with unhealthy excitement, and
long years of dissipation. Yet amid all these
marks of evil there was stamped upon the whole