THE INDIANA STATE SENTINEL. WEDNESDAY, JULY 24 1889.
THE. LADY OF THE CLUB.
Beiford'a Msjraalne.1
The old and somewhat cynical eaying,
that philosophers and reformers can bear
the griefs and woes of other people with a
neroi?tn and resignation worthy of their
creeds, would have fitted the case of Ko
land Barker only when shorn of the inten
tional 6ting of earcaaiu. It is, nevertheless,
true that even his nobly-gifted nature, his
tender heart, and his alert brain some
times failed to crasp the very pith and
point of his own argument?.
He was a wealthy man whose sympa
thies were earnestly with tho poor and
unfortunate. He believed that he under
stood their suffering, their ambitions and
their needs; and his voice and pen were
no morn truly on the side of charity and
brotherly kindness than was his purse.
It was no unusual tbing for him to at
tend a meeting, address a c!ub, or take
part in a memorial service, where his was
the only hand unused to toil, and where
he alone bore all expense, and then after
dressing himself in the most approved and
faultless manner became tbo guest of
honor at some fashionable entertainment.
Indeed, he was a leader in fashion, as well
as in philosophy, and at once a hero in
Avenue A and on Murray Hill.
On the eveninsr of which I am about to
tell you he had addressed a club of work
inmea in their little dingy hall, taking as
his subject "Realities of Life." He had
f oucht to show them that poverty and toil
are not, after all, the worst that can
befall a man, and that the most acute
misery dwells in palaces and is robed in
parole.
He spoke with the feeling of one who
had himself snü'ered as, indeed, he had
from the unsympathetic associations of an
uncongenial marriage. He pictured, with
deep feeling, the chill atmosphere of a
loveless home, whose wealth and glitter
and luster could never thrill and enrapture
the heart as micht the loving handclasp in
the bare, chill rooms where sympathy and
affection were the champions of poverty.
I bad admired bis enthusiasm as he
pictured the joy of sacrifice for the sake of
those we love, and I had been deeply
touched by his pathos a pathos which I
knew, alas, too well, sprang from a hungry
heart whether, a now, it beat beneath a
simple coat of tweed or, as when hours
later, it would still be the prisoner of its
mighty longing, though clothed with ele
gance" and seated at a banquet fit for
princes.
The lat words fell slowly from his lips,
and his eyes were dimmed, as were the
eyes of all about me. His eyes, bo full of
ieelina had har.lly ceased to throb when
far back in the little hall arose a woman,
thin and worn, and plainly clad, butshow
in? traces of a beauty and refinement
wnich bad held their own and fought
their way inch bv inch in spite of pov
erty, anxiety and tears. The chairman
recognized her and asked her to the plat
form. "No.'' she said, in a low, tremulous
tone.which showed at once her feeling and
ber culture "no, I do not wish to take
the platform; but since you ask for criti
cism of the kind speech we have just lis
tened to, it hao seemed to me that I might
Ser one, althou?h I am a stranzer to
you all."
Her voice trembled, and she held firmly
to the back of a chair in front of her. Tho
chairman signified his willingness to ex
tend to her the privilege of the Coor, and
there was slight applause. She bowed
and began again slowly:
"I sometimes think that it is useless to
ever try to make the suffering rich and
the suffering poor understand each other.
I do not question that the gentleman has
tasted sorrow. All good men have. I do
not question that his heart is warm and
true and honest, and that he truly thinks
what be said;, but and here her voico
broke a little and her lip trembled "but
he does not know what real suffering is.
He cannot. No rich man can."
There was a moment of impatience in
the room, and some one said, loud enoueh
to be heard, "If 6he thinks money can
bring happiness she is badly left."
There was a slight ripple of lauehter at
this, and even the serious face of Roland
Barker grew almost merry for a moment
Then the woman went on, without ap
pearing to have noticed the interruption:
"I do not want to seem ungracious, and
heaven knows, no one couid mean more
kindly what I say; but he has said that
money is not needed to make us happy
only love, and ajrain h'e quotes that base
less old maxim, 'The love of money is the
root of all evil.' " She paused, then went
p'owly on as if feeling her way and fearing
to lose her hold upon herself: "I know
it is a sad and cruet world, even to the
more fortunate, if they have hearts to feel
and brains to think. To the unloving or
unloved there must be little worth; but
rhey at least are spared the agony that sits
wLere love and poverty have ßhaken
hands with death' her voico broke, and
there was a painful silence in the room
"where those who love are wrung and
torn by all the thousand fears and appre
hensions of ills that are to come to wife
and child and friend. The day has passed
wten all this talk of poverty and love
that love makes want an easv thing to
bear the day has passed, "I say, when
sane men ought to think, or wise men
ppeak, such cruel, false, and harmful
words. He truly says that money without
love cannot bring happiness; but that w
only half the truth, for love with poverty
can bring, does bring, the keenest agony
that mortals ever bore."
There wa a movement of dissent in the
hall. She lifted her fac a moment, con
tracted her lips, drew a long breath, and
taid :
"I will explain. Without the love, pov
erty wf-re lijiht enough to bear. What
does it matter for one's self? It is the love
that gives the awful sting to want, and
cakes its cruel fingers grip the throat as
never tie cr grappli'ng-hook took hold,
und torture with a keener zest than fiends
their victims! Love and poverty! It-is
tho combination that devils invented to
i.:ake a hell on earth."
All eye were fastened on her white face
now, and she was rushing on, her word?,
hot and impassioned, striking firm on
every point she made.
,kCet me give you a case. In a home
where comfort is or wealth a mother
pits, watching by night and day the awful
hand of death reach nearer, closer to her
precious bat, and nothing that kill or
science can suggest w ill stay the hand or
heal the aching heart; and yet there ia
comfort in the thought that all was done
that love and wealth and skill could do,
and that it was nrtture's way. But take
from her the comfort of that thoujrht.
She watches with the same poor, breaking
heart, but with the knowelJge, now, to
keep her company, that science might,
sh! couid, push back the end, could even
rare her babe if but the means to pay for
skill and change and wholesome food and
air were hers. Is that no added pang?
Is poverty no curse to her? a curse the
deeper for her depth ot love? The rich
know naught of this. It gives to life its
"wil iest agony, to love its deepest hurt"
She paused. There was a slight stir as if
f ornc one had thought to offer applause,
and then the silence feil again, and 6he
tean anew, with shining eyes and cheeks
aflame. She swayed a little as ehe poke
and clutched the chair as for support
Her voic grew hoarse and trembled, and
ehe fixed her gaze upon a vacant chair.
"But let me tell you of another case. A
stoüe's throw from this hall, where pretty
things are said week after week, and
kindly meant. I know of poverty and
love of the blessedness of these, there
is a living illustration, worth more than
all the theories ever spun to tell you what
'realities of life' must be where love is
great and poverty holds sway. Picture
with me tho torture and despair of a re
fined and cultured woman who watches
hour by hour the long months roll through
and sees the creeping feet of mental wreck
and physical decay, and knows the mortal
need of care and calm for him who is the
whole of life to her, and for the want of
that which others waste and hold as dross
h? must work on and on, hastening each
day the end he does not see, which shall
deprive him of all of life except the power
for ill. She will be worse than widowed
and alone, for ever by her side sits Want,
for hiui, tearing at every chord of heart
and soul not for herself, but for that
dearer one, wrecked in the prime of life
and left a clod endowed only with strength
for cruel wrong, whose hand would
sheath a knife in her dear heart and laugh
with maniac glee at his mail deeds. She
saw the end. She knew long months ago
what was to be, if he must toil and strain
his nerve and brain for need of that which
goes from knave to knave, and hoards
itself within cathedral walls, where wise
men meet to teach tho poor contentment
with their lot. She knew he must not
know; the knowledge of the shadow must
be kept from his dear brain until the very
end, by smiles, and cheer, and merry jest
from her. Who dare tell her that riches
are a curt-e? and prate of 'dross' and call
on heaven to witness that its loss is only
gain of jov and harbinger of higher, holier
things? "Who dare call her as witness for
the blifs of poverty with love?"
Fhe slowly raised her hand and, w ith a
quick-drawn breath, pressed it against
her side, and with her eyes still fastened
on the vacant chair, and tears upon her
cheeks, falling unchecked upon her heav
ing bosom, she held her listener silent
and intent on every word she spoke. The
time allotted anyone was long since over
run ; but no one thought of that, and she
went on :
"With love! Ah, there is where the
iron can burn and scar and open every
wound afresh each day, make povertj' a
curse, a blight, scourge, a vulture, iron
beaked, with claws of burning steel, that
leave no nerve untouched, no drop of
blood unshed.
"With love! 'Tis there the hand of
poverty can deal the deadliest blows, and
show, as nowhere else on earth, the value
of that slandered, hoarded thing called
wealth."
There blazed into her face a fierce, in
dignant light, her voice swelled out and
struck upon the ear like fire-bells in the
dead of night.
" 'The root of evil !' 'poverty with love !'
Hypocrisy, in purple velvet robed, behind
stained glass, with strains of music falling
on its ears, with table spread in banquet
ball below, bethought itself to argue thus
to those itself had robbed; while, thought
less of its meaning and its birth, the echo
of it lving, treacherous words came from
the pallid lips of many a wretch whose
life has been a failure and an agony bo
cause of that which he himself extols. A
lie once born contains a thousand lies, and
holds at bay the struggling, feeble truth,
if but that He be fathered by a priest and
mothered by a throne as this .one was!
'The root of evil' is the spring of joy.
Decry it those who will. And those who
do not love, perchance, mav laugh at all
ih need can mean; but to the loving, suf
fering poor bring no more cant, and ceaso
to voice the hollow words of ignorance
and hypocrisy. It is too cruel, and its
deadly breath has long enough polluted
sympathj and frozen up the springs oi
healthy thought, while sheathing ven
omed fangs in breaking hearts. Recast
your heartless creeds! Your theories for
the poor are built on these."
She sank back into her chair white and
exhausted,
There was a wild burst of applause. A
part of the audience, with that ear for
sound and that lack of sense to be iound
in all such gatherings, had forgotten that
it was not listening to a burst of eloquence
which had been duly written out and com
mitted to memory for the occasion.
But Koland Barker sprang to his feet,
held both hands up to command silence,
and said, in a scarcely audible voice, as he
trembled from head to foot: "Hush, hush!
Mie has told the truth! She has told the
awful truth ! I never saw it all before.
Heaven help vou to bear it. It seems to
me I cannot!'''
Several were pale and weeping. I turned
to speak to the woman who had changed
an evening's entertainment into a tragic
scene; but she slipped out during the ex
citement. I took Barkers arm and we
walked toward the avenue together.
Neither of us speks until we reached
Madison square. Here the poor fellow
sank into a seat and pulled mc down be
side him.
"Don't talk to me about theories after
that," said he. "Great God! I am more
dead than alive. I feel fifty vears older
than when I went to that little hall to
teach those people how to live by my fine
philosophy, and I truly thought that I had
tasted sorrow and found the key to resig
nation. Ye cods!''
"Perhaps you have," I said.
"Yes, yes," he replied impatiently ; "but
suppose I had to face life day by day,
hour by hour, as that woman pictured it
and ehe was a lady with as keen a sense
of pain as I what do you suppose my
philosophy would do for me then? Do
you think I could endure it? And I went
there to teach these people how to suffer
and be strong!"
"Look here. Barker," I said, "you'd bet
ter go borne now and go to bed. You are
cold and tired, and this won't help mat
ters any."
"What will?" he asked.
I made no reply. When we reached
his door he asked again:
"What will?"
I shook my head and left him standing
in the brilliant hall of his beautiful home,
dazed and puzzled and alone.
The next time I met Koland Barker he
grasped ray hand and said excitedly: "I
have found that woman I What she said
is ali true. My God ! what is to be done?
I feel like a strong man tied hand and
foot, while devilish vultures feed on the
flesh of living babes before my eyes!"
"Stop, Barker," I said; "stop and go
away for a while, or you will go mad.
What have you been doing? Look at your
hands; they tremble like the hands' of a
palsied man; and your face; why, Barker,
your face is haggard and set, and your
hair is actually turning gravi What in
the name of all that's holy have you been
doing?"
".Nothing, absolutely nothing!" ho cx-
rlaimed. "That is the trouble! What
can I do? I tell vou something is wrong,
Gordon; something is desperately wrong
in this world."
"She is only one of a great many," I sug
gested. Koland Barker groaned: "My God!
that is the trouble so many that the thing
seems hopeless. And to think that on
every one of these poor souls is laid an
other burden that that stone spire may go
untaxed!"
"Barker," I said, laying my hand on his
arm. "tell me what has forced all this
upon you with sucb a terrible weight just
now?"
"Not here, not now," he said. "I have
written it down just as she told it to me
von know I learned stenography when I
began taking an interest in public meet
ings. Well, I've just been copying those
notes out. Thev are in my pocket," he
said, laying his hand on his breast. "They
seem to burn ray very soul. I would not
dare to trust myself to read them to you
here. Come home with me."
When we were seated in his magnificent
library, he glanced about him, and, with a
wave of his hand said, with infinite satire:
"You will notice the striking appropriate
ness of the surroundings and the subject."
"No doubt," I said. "I have often no
ticed that before, especially the last time I
heard a sermon preached to three of the
Vanderbilts, two Astore, five other mil
lionaires, and about sixty more Christians,
all of whom were wealthy. The subject
was Christ's advice to tho rich young man,
'Sell all thou hast and give to the poor.'
But never mind; go on; the day has
pasted when deed and creed are supposed
to hold the slightest relation to each other;
and what is a twenty-thousand-dollar sal
ary for if not to buy " sufficient ability to
explain it all sweetly away and administer
at the same time, an anaesthetic to the
natural consciences of men."
I settled myself in a large Turkish chair
on one side of the splendidly carved table ;
he stood on the other side sorting a man
uscript. Presently he 'began reading it.
"When I married Frank Mellvillo he was
strong and grand and brave; a truer man
never lived. He had been educated for
the law. His practice was small, but wo
were able to live very well on what he
made, and the prospect for the future was
bright. We loved each other but, ah!
there are no words to tell that. We wor
shiped each other as only two who have
been happily mated can ever understand.
We lived up to his salary. Perhaps you
will say that that was not wise. We thought
it was. A good appearance, a fairly good
appearance at least, was all that we could
make, and to hold his own In his profes
sion, that was necessary. You know how
that is. A shabby-looking man soon loses
his hold on paying clients. Of course he
would not dress well and allow me to be
ill-clad. He he loved me. We were
never able to lay by anything; but we
were young and strong and" hopeful and
we loved each other.'" .Barker's voice
trembled. He looked at me a moment,
and then said very low: "If you could
have seen her poor, tired, beautiful eyes
when she said that."
"I can imagine how she looked." I said.
"She had a face one remembers."
After a little he went on : " 'We had
both been brought up to live well. Our
friends were people of culture, and we
it will seem strange to you for me to sav
that our love and devotion were the ad
miration and talk of them alL
" 'By-and-b' 1 was taken ill. My hus
band could not bear to think of me as at
home alone, suffering. He stayed with
me a great deal. I did not know that he
was neglecting his business; I think he
did not realize it then; ho thought he
could make it all up; he was strong and
he loved me. At last the doctors told
him that I should die if he did not take
me away; I ought to have an ocean voy
age. It nlmost killed him that he could
not give me that. We had not the money.
He took me away a little while w here I
could breathe the salt air, and the good it
did me made his heart only the sadder
when he saw that it was true that all I
needed was an ocean voyage. The cli
mate of his home was slowly killing me.
We bore it as long as we dared, and I got
so weak that he almost went mad. Then
we moved here, where my health
was good. But it was a terrible task to
get business ; there were so many like
him, all fighting as if for life, for money
to live on from day to day. The strain
was too much for him, and just as he be
gan to gain a footing he fell ill, and and
if wc had had money enough for him to
take a rest then, and have proper care,
good doctors, and be relieved from imme
diate anxiety, he would have gotten well,
with my care I loved him so. But, as it
was shall I show you the end?" Barker
stopped; he wa3 trembling violently, his
eyes were full of tears. I waited. Pres
ently he said, huskily : "Shall I tell you,
Gordon, what I saw? I have not gotten
over it yet. She laid her finger on her
lips and motioned me to follow. The
room where we had been was poor and
bare. She took a key from her bosom,
opened a door and went in. I followed.
Sitting in the only comfortable chair
which had been handsome once was a
magnificent-looking man, so far as mere
physical proportions can make one that.
"' 'Darling,' she said tenderly, as if talk
ing to a little child. 'Darling, I have
brought you a present. Are you glad ?'
"She handed him a withered rose that I
had carelessly dropped as I went in.
"He arose, bowed to me when she pre
sented me, waved me to his chair, took
the tlower, looked at her with infinite love,
and said: 'To-morrow, little wife; wait
till to-morrow.'
"Then he Bat down, evidently uncon
scious of my presence, and gazed steadily
at her for a moment, seeming to forget all
else and to struggle with some thought
that constantly eluded him. She patted
his hand as if he were a child, smiling
through her heart-break all the while,
kissed him, and motioned me to precede
her from the room.
"When she came out she locked the
door carefully behind her, sank into a
chair, covered her face with her bands and
sobbed as if her heart would break. After
awhile she said: 'A little money would
have saved him, and now it is too late, too
late. Sometimes he is violent, sometimes
like that. The doctors say the end is not
far oir, and that at any moment he may
kill me and afterward awake to know it?
It is all the result of poverty with love!'
6he said. Then, passionately: 'If I did
not love him so I could bear it, but I can
not, I cannot! And how will we bear it
if he ever harms me and I not there to
help him?' "
Barker stepped to the window to hide
his emotion. Presently he said, in a voico
that trembled: "If she did not love him
so she could let him go to some asylum ;
but she knows the end is sure and not far
off, and that the gleams of light he has are
when he sees her, face. She has parted
with everything that has made life attract
ive to keep food and warmth for him.
She is simply existing now from day to
day one constant agony of soul and sense
waiting for the end. She allowed me to
take a doctor to see him ; I would have
come for you, but you were out of town.
He only confirmed what others had told
her a year ago. He advised her to have
him put in a safe place before he did some
violence; but she refused, and made us
promise not to interfere. She said he
would be able to harm no one but her, if
he became violent at the last, and she was
ready for that. It was easier far to live
that way and wait for that each day than
to have him taken away where he would
be unhappy and perhaps ill-treated. He
needed her care and love beside him every
hour, and sho she needed nothing."
Here Barker Hung; himself into a chair
and let his head fall on his foided arms on
the table.
"That is the way love makes poverty
easy to bear," he said, bitterly, after a
time, and his trembling Lands clutched
tigtit together.
"Did you give her any money?" I
aeked.
He groaned. "Yes, ves. I that is, I left
some on the table under her sewing. She
isn't the kind of woman one can offer
charity. She"
"No," I said, "she isn't, and besides, for
the pain that tortures her it is too late
now for money to help. Only it may re
lieve her somewhat to feel sure that she
can get what he needs to eat and wear and
to keep him wann and allow her to be free
from necessity of outside work. I am glad
yoa left the money. But but Barker, do
you think she will use it, coming that way
and from a stranger?"
He looked up forlornly. "No, I don't,"
he said ; "and yet ehe "may. I will hope
so; but if she does, what then? The ter
rible question will still remain fust where
it was. That is no way to solve it; we
can't ball out the ocean with a thimble.
And what an infamous imposition all this
talk is of 'resignation' to sueh as she ; for
her terrible calm, as she talked to me,
had no hint of .resignation in it She is
simply calmly, quietly desperate now
and she is one of the many." He groaned
aloud.
"Will you take me there the next time
you go? I asked.
"She said I must not comeback; she
could not bo an object of curiosity nor
allow him to be. She said that "she al
lowed me to come this time because on
the night we first saw her she had stepped
into that little hall to keep herself from
freezing in her thin clothes as she was
making ber way home, and she saw that
I was in earnest jn what I said, and she
stayed to listen" his voice broke again.
Just then the drapery was drawn back,
ind his wife, superbly robed, swept in,
bringing a bevy of girls.
"Oh, Mr. Barker," said one, gayly. "you
don't know what you missed to-night by
deserting our theater party ; it was all so
real love in rage, you know, and all that
sort of thing; only I really don't like to
see quite so much attention paid to the
'Suffering poor with a bigS,' and the lower
classes generally. I think the 6tage can
do far better than that, don't you? But it
is the new fad, I suppose, and after all I
fancy it doesn't do much harm, only as it
makes that sort of people more insuffera
bly obtrusive about putting their ill-clad,
bad-smelling woes before the rest of us.
What a beautiful vase this is, Mrs. Bark
er! May I take it to the light?"
"Certainly, my dear," laughed Mrs.
Barker: "and I agree with you, as usual.
I think it is an exquisite vase and that
the stage is becoming demoralized. It is
pandering to the low taste for representa
tions of low life. I confess I don't like it.
That sort of people do not have the feel
ings to be hurt the fine sensibilities and
emotions attributed to them. Those grow
up in refined and delecate surroundings.
That is what I often tell Roland when he
insists upon making himself unhappy
over some new 'case' of destitution. I
tell him to send them five dollars by mail
and not to worry himself, and I won't
allow him to worry me with his Christy
street emotions."
Barker winced, and I excused myself
and withdrew, speculating on certain
phases of delicacy of feeling and fine
sensibility.
I did not see Barker again for nearly
three weeks, when one night my bell was
rung with unusual violence, and I heard
an excited voice in my hall. "Be quick,
John ; hurry," it said, "and tell the doctor
I must see him at once. Tell him it is
Roland Barker."
John had evidently demurred at calling
me at so late an hour.
"All right, Barker ; I'll be down in a
moment," I callecLfrom above. "No, come
up. You can tell me what is the matter
while I dress. Is it for j'ourselt? There,
go in that side room, I cän hear you, and
I'll be dressed in a moment."
"Hurry, hurry!" he said, excitedly, "I'll
tell you on the way. I have my carriage.
Dont wait to order yours, only hurry,
hurry, hurry!"
Once in the carriage, I said: "Barker,
you are going to use yourself up this way.
You can't keep this fcort of thing up much
longer. You'd better go abroad."
"Drive faster!" he called to the man on
top. Then to me: "If you are not tho
first doctor there, there will be a dread
ful scene. They will most likely arrest
her for murder.
"Whom!" said I. "You have told me
nothing, and how can I prevent that if a
murder has been committed?"
"By giving her a regular death certifi
cate," said he, coolly, "saying that you at
tended the case and that it was a natural
death. I depend upon you. Gordon; it
would lie simply ria famous to make her
suffer any more. I cannot help her now,
but you can, you must! No one will know
the truth but us, and afterward we can
help her to forget. She is not an old
woman; there may be something in life
for her yet."
"Is it the Lady of the" Club?" I asked.
We had always called her that?" "What
has she done ?"
"Yes," he said, "it is the 'Lady of the
Club,' and she has poisoned her hus
band." "Good God!" exclaimed I; "and you
want me to give heraregular death certifi
cate and say I attended the case?"
"You must," he eaid; "it would be in
famous not to. .he could not bear it
longer. She found herself breaking down,
and she would not leave him alive with
out her care and love. He had become
almost helpless, except when short vio
lent spells came on. Theso left him ex
hausted. He almost killed her in the last
one. Her terror was that he would do so
and then regain his reason that he would
know it afterward and perhaps be
dragged through the courts. She
had been working in a chem
ist's office, it seems, when she was
able to do anything. She took some acon
ite, and to-night she put everything in
order, gave him the best supper she could,
got him to bed, and then gave him that
She sent for mo and told me as calmly as
God! it was the calm of absolute despera
tion. She sat there when I went in, hold
ing his poor dead hand, and kissing it rev
erently. She laid it down, and told me
what t tell you. There was not a tear, a
moan, a sigh. She said: 'Here is the money
you left all except what I paid for his
supper to-night We bad gotten down to
that before I had the chance to steal the
poison, or the courage to give it to him. I
had not meant to use any of the money ;
the rest is here. I would like it used if
you are willing to bury him decently,
not in the Potter's field, and I would like
if you w ill take the trouble to have it
done absolutely privately. We have borne
enough. I cannot bear for even his ashes
to be subjected to any further humilia
tion.' "
Koland Barker paused to command him
self. "Of course I promised her," he
went on, after a time. "She does not re
alize that she maybe arrested and have
his poor body desecrated to find the causo
of death. That would make her insane
even if Drive faster!" he called out
again to the man outside. When we
reached the house he said: "Be prepared
to see her perfectly calm. It is frightful
to witness, and I 'tremble for the result
later on."
When we knocked t the door there
was no response. I pushed it open and
entered first. The room was empty. We
went to the inner door and rapped gently,
then louder. There was no sound. Barker
opened the door, and then stepped quick
ly back and closed it "She is kneeling
there by his bed," he said, "write tho cer
tificate here and give it to nie. Then I
will bring an undertaker and we can at
tend to everything else. 1 did want you
to see her. I think you should give "her
something to make her sleep. That forced
calm will make her lose her mind. She
is bo shattered you would not recognize
her."
"Stay here, Earksr," I Raid: "I want to
see her alone for a moment I will tell her
who I am and that you brought me if I
need to."
He eyed me sharply, but I stepped
hastily into the inner room. I touched the
shoulder and then the forehead of the
kneeling form. It did not move. "Just
as 1 expected," I muttered, and lifting the
lifeless form in my arms I laid it gently
beside the body of her husband. In one
hand she held "the vial from which she had
taken the last drop of the deadly drug,
and clasped in her other she had held her
husband's fingers. She had been dead but
a few moments, and both she and her hus
band were robwd for the grave.
When I returned to the other room I
found Barker with a cots in his hand and
a shocked and horrified look on his face.
He glanced up at me through his tears.
"We were too late," he said. "She left
this note tor me. I found it on the table.
She meant to do it all along, and that is
why she was so calm and had no fears for
herself."
"I thought so when you told me what
she bad done," said I.
"Did you ? I did not for a moment or
I would have stayed and tried to reason
her out of it."
"It is best as it i?," said I, "and you
could not have reasoned her out of it It
was inevitable after the rest. Take this
certificate too; you will need both."
When all was safely over, as we drove
home from the new graves two days later,
Barker said: "Is this the solution?"
I did not reply.
Presently he 6aid: "To the dead, who
cannot 6ulier, we can be kind and shield
them even from themselves. Is there no
way to help the living. A few hundred
dollars, two short years ago, would have
saved all this, and there was no way for
her to get it She knew it all then, and
there was no help!"
"Why did she not, in such a case as
that, push back her pride and go to somo
one? There must be thousands who
would have gladly responded to such a
call as that," he said.
He buried his face in his hands for a
moment and shuddered. At last he said :
"She did she went to three good men,
men who had known, been friendly with,
and admired her and her husband. Two
of them are worth their millions, the
other one is rich. She only asked to bor
row, and promised to repay it herself if
she had to live and work after he were
dead to do it!"
"You do not mean to tell me that thev
refused and they old friends and rich'.":
I asked, amazed.
"I mean to say just this; they one
and all made some excuse ; they did not
let her have it."
"She told them what the doctors said,
and of her fears? '
"She did," he answered, sadly.
"And yet you say they are good men."
I exclaimed, indignantly.
"Good, benevolent, charitable, every one
of them," he answered.
"Were you one of them, Barker?" I
asked, after a moment's pause.
"Thank God, no!" he replied. "But
perhaps in some other case I have done
the same, if I only knew the whole story.
Those men do not know this last, you must
remember."
"And the worst of it is, we dare not tell
them," said 1, as we parted.
"No, we dare not, he replied, and left
me standing with the copy of the burial
certificate in my hand.
"Natural causes," I said to myself, look
ing at it "Died of natural causes the
brutality and selfishness of man and
poverty with love. Natural causes! Yes."
And I closed my office door and turned
out the light.
A COMEDY OF ERRORS.
Krabarrasslns Kxperience of a Young Chi
cngo Itrirle.
Chicago IleialJ.
"A very comely young woman opened
the door, and Jones noticed that she
seemed surprised at 6ceing him. She was
about to speak when he inquired:
"'Is Mrs. Jones in?'
"The good-looking little woman smiled
coquettishly, placed her fists on her hips,
with her arms akimbo, and said very
archly :
'"It looks like it, doesn't it?'
'Then she burst into a very jolly laugh,
caught Jones by the lapel of his coat and
pulled him into tho parlor, where she
reached her two plump arms up around
his neck, and said to the astonished Jones:
" 'First, kiss me.'
"Jones would have thought he had
struck a private asylum but for the fact
that the little woman with her arms
around his neck was very pretty, with big.
blue eyes and golden hair, and not at all
like a lunatic. Besides, she was hold
ing her face upturned ready to be kissed,
and he had no time to think. He kissed
her as per request, and did it with as
much ardor as any woman could ask. Then
she said :
"Second, tell me what brings you out
here in the middle of the afternoon, and
she pulled his head down and kissed him
again.
"I reckon there never was another man
placed in such a trying position as that.
Jones saw in a minute that he was mis
taken for somebody else, but he didn't
know whether it was a sweetheart or wife
he had found, and he didn't care to take
chances on deciding. He said:
" 'I came to see if you would rent me a
room.' "
"The pretty little woman laughed again
and pushed him into a chair. Then she
sat on his knee, put her arms around his
neck, and asked, shyly :
"'Aren't you satisfied with your present
quarters?'
"She hugged him real hard as she said
this, and kissed him before he had a
chance to reply. When he got a 6how he
braced up to a performance of duty and
said:
" 'I guess you've made a mistake. I'm
looking for a room. You seem to take
me for somebody you've met before.'
"He said this as seriously as ho could,
but the fun of the thing and that peculiar
twist of the upper lip made him look as it
he were half laughing. His remarks threw
the pretty little woman into a great fit of
laughter, but she didn't let go of him.
"Finally she subdued her mirth a little
and said:
" 'Now quit teasing me and tell me how
much you love me,' and she smothered
him again.
"Jones saw that he was getting into
deep water and that he had better swim
out He tried to take the pretty arms
from about his neck and to disincumber
his knee, but be didn't succeed.
'I'm not teasing you,' he said, 'I never
saw you before. Who do you think I
am?'
"The arms were loosened and the two
hands grabbed him by the shoulders.
"'Why, Fred Jones?' said the little
woman. 'What do you mean by talking
tome like that? You know I don't like
you when you tease.'
" 'Fred Jones is my name,' replied Jones,
'but I am not your Fred Jones, nor any
body's. I am a single man, and I came
here hoping to find a room.'
"The little woman bounced off his knee
and stood looking at him a minute, evi
dently in doubt as to whether he was
crazy or only just playing a joke on her.
She made up her mind to the latter and
made a dive for Iiis neck again, and got it,
along with another kiss.
" 'Don't be silly, dear,' she eaid. That
isn't a bit funny, now. It might have
been when you first came in, but it isn't
any longer. You never did know when
to "end your jokes.'
" 'I see you take me for your husband,'
said Jones, as Ehe perched on his knee
again.
"'"Well, rather!' the little woman mur
mured, as she snuggled her cheek down
against his and tickled her nose with his
mustache.
" 'But I am not,' said Jones.
"Up the little woman jumped again,
and Jones took advantage of the oppor
tunity to get up also.
" 'fed Jones!' she said, and she began
to get mad. 'I want you to stop this
stupid pretense. I won't speak to you for
a week if you. don't I told you that it
wasn't funny.
"Jones took her by the arm and led hsr
to the bay window, the shutters oi which
were partially closed. He threw them all
open, squared himself before the tempting
little beauty and said earnestly :
" 'I'm not joking at all. I have told you
the truth. . I am not j'our husband and I
never saw vou till you opened the door
and grabbed me. I advertised for a room
in this neighborhood and you answered it
to "E. 17." Here is the answer,' and he
dived into his pocket and brought it out.
" 'Look me all over and see if you don't
realize your error. It's hardly possible
that I should be dressed exactly like your
husband, even if I do look like him in
every other respect'
"The little woman was dazed. She took
the letter mechanically and looked at him,
getting soared more and mere every min
ute. Her eyes took in the cutaway suit of
dark stuff he wore, as though it was per
fectly familiar to her.
"She looked searchingly into his face,
and at the peculiar expression about the
left corner of his mouth, and had got so
far in a protest as "Oh, Fred, don't
frighten' when her eyes rented on his
necktie and the pin it held. The pin was
a jagged little nugget of gold w hich Jones
had got out West, and he had had a little
diamond set in it.
"Pretty Mrs. Jones' face grew a shade
Ealer and she took a step backward and
urriedly snatched the sheet of paper out
of the envelope. She opened it and read
her own answer to the advertisement.
Then she took another look at her hus
band's double and ran to the other
end of the room, as scared as though poor
Jones had been Jack the Ripper.
"'Go away!' she cried frantically ; 'go
away !'
"I suppose she thought of the affection
ate reception 6he had given him and was
writhing mentally. She dropped into a
chair and buried her face in her hands
and commenced to cry. This touched
Jones, and he came over and sat down
near her.
" 'I'm sorry for what has happened.' ho
said, 'and will go in a minute. First, I
want to know something about yourself
and busband. I gather that his name and
mine are identical, just as we appearto bo
in person.'
"The little woman told him, between
her 6obs, that she bad been married only
three months; that her husband worked
in a certain wholesale house down town,
and they wanted to rent a room or two to
help out the rent. That was why she an
swered his advertisement.
"When Jones departed she went to tho
door with him, and smiled through her
tears as ßbe told him she'could never be
certain she had the right man unless sho
put a mark on him of some sort. She
wouldn't 6hake hands, and Jones came
away.
"He said he believed she was only half
convinced that ho wasn't her husband
then, and that if he had declared it all a
joke she would have thrown herself into
his arms. But he wasn't mean enough to
do that. He sympathized with her in her
dilemma.
"Well, he came and told me all about it,
and wo fixed up a scheme to go to the
place where the husband worked and look
at him. I was to ask for him and talk to
him, while Jones stood aside somew hero
and sized him up.
"We did it. I asked for Fred Jones,
and when he appeared I was so thunder
struck that I almost forgot my part; but I
managed to say I had called to see if he
was a Fred Jones I had known in New
York, etc. The two men were exact
counterparts.
"When we came away Fred was pale,
and I knew he realized the mental load
that pretty little Mrs. Jones would hence
forth have to stagger under when he said:
" Old man, I wouldn't be in that wo
man's place for $1,000. Whenever that
husband of hers steps out of sight a min
ute the next time he appears he will have
to be identified, and 6he w on't be sure
then it isn't I. This suspicion that the
man sho takes for her husband may be
the other one will follow her through life
and be like a specter to bob up in her
path at every turn. It will make her
gray-haired before her time if it don't
drive her crazy. I guess the only decent
thing for me to do is to go to some other
part of the country and let her know that
I'm no longer in the same town with her
husband.' "
"So he went to California the next
week. He is in San Francisco now, and
every week sends a letter to Mrs. Fred
Jones in Chicago, proving that he is still
there."
If the man who told this story invented
it, he ought to enter the list with Rider
Haggard.
The Face at tho Windoir.
Detroit Free Press.
"This letter is to my husband," she tali as
6he licked on a etamp at the window in the cor
ridor of the postoilicc.
"Yes'm."
"Will it go to-day?" .
"Yes'm."
T.y first mail?"
"Yes'm."
"He oupht to get it day after to-morrow?"
"Yes'm."
"And I ought to have his answer by Satur
day?'' "Yes'm."
"It ain't overweight?"
"No'm."
"And if he gets it, and I get his answer by
Saturday. I can write "
"Please don't obstrnct the window, ma'am;
there's forty people waiting."
"Oh! thereare! That's always the way of iL
I can't get a word of information out of this
postoilice, try as I will. Good day, sir! I'.'l
go across to Canada after this!"
Wanted In a Dime Maeeuni.
Lawrence American.
St. Teter "Well, who are you?"
Newly Arrived Spirit "I'm a newspaper hu
morist." "Lver make a joke about the Chicago girl's
foot?-'
"Nop."
"Or about the mother-in-law?"
"No. sir."
"Ever say that your umbrella reminded you
of a certain season in the year because it was
Lent?"
"Never."
"Just stand out there and I'll call the rest of
the boys to look at you. With all these truth
ful circulation editors and cheekless book
agents and such men as you, we'll have to put
on an annex pretty soon."
II Saw the Proprietor.
Epoch.
Wife "John, I wish you'd po into Coffee fc
Co's. when you're down town and see why
they haven't sent up the groceries 1 ordered by
postal card two days ago. li'a shameful to
neglect ray order ao. Just give them a real
hard scoldinff, will you, John?" John "I
shall go there and see Mr. CofiVe himself about
it." John (an hour later) "Mr. Co (Tee, here's
an order on this postal card that I've carried
in my pocket two days. I wish you'd get the
goods up to the house early this morning, will
you, please?"
A Philosophic Memory.
Pack.
Jones (turning back to hail the congressman
from hi district, who has just passed him
without speaking) "Why, Col. Buneo, you
don't know me! Don't you remember Jones
of North Fork, who distributed tickets for you
last fall?"
Col. Dnneo "Of course I do. Why, Jouea,
old fellow, how are you? Wasn't expecting to
see you, you know. Knew your name per
fectly, and was just trying to recall your lace
when you spoke. How'a everything down
your way
Ab Evidence of Greatness.
fPuck.
Visitor (to host) "You seem to b a promi
nent citizen here everybody turns around to
look at you."
Great Man (proudlyV-"Yea. There ain't a
man In this town that I don't owe."
Cnmte Chtmes.
Texas Siftlngs. .
Mether "Dar, now, I don tolo you not to
flay wid dem white cbildens. Dsy lick all d
awea of yer bread, tad den call yer nierl"
R. R. R.
RADWAY'S
READY RELIEF.
The Cheapest and Best Medl
cine for Family Use in
the World.
In from one to Iwiutr minute, never fails to rsl'.essa
PAIN w;!h one thorough appl cation. No matter taff
violent or exeraciat ng the'pam, the Rlieumatio, Bed
ridden, Infirm, Cnppied, Nervous, Neuralpic, nrproe
tratcd wita d a rnayeu2er, RADWAV'B KLiCf
KtLIEF wiU auord insiant relief
THE TRUE RELIEF.
RADWAT'S READY RELIEF 1 the ob rmi.!
(rent in vorue tLat will inneatly Mop p&io. Icstat'.y
ruiieves ana soon cures
RHEUMATISM! NEURALGIA.!
Sciatica.
Toothache,
Congestions,
Headache,
Inflammations,
Asthma,
lDnuen.a,
ore Throat.
D:'Jicult Breathing.
Sum mt- Complain
DYSENTERY, DIARRHEA.
Cholera Morbus.
It will la s few m!nut, when tnkeo sccrdisf ti
direction, core Crnmpn, spasms, Sour fe'oniaoh.
Heartburn, Nausea, Voiaific?, NV trockne. 8eexv.
Wne.8, Cholera Morbus, fire Headache, STMMEÄ
COMPLAINT, Diarrh ea. Dysentery, Colic, Wind IS
tb Howe!, mid ail internal pa n.
It is b'chlv important that evenr faTiilv kep rf
p'yot' KADWAY S KKaUY KKLlEF alwaya tn thl
boue. Its gw w 11 prove benea-ial no aU otaiona
of pain or icknes. Thre is uothinc In the world
that will stop ra:n or arrest tlie rrres of disess as
qui klr as 1;. K. !i-
Where epidemic Jiei prri1, airn a Fever,
Pventery, Cholera. Icflj'nza, Diphtheria, Rrar.
Fever and other T!).v'ipnaDt J'!eae. EADWir
READY HEL1LF wi'.i. i! taken a direz-ied. prorr.
the syetem against attacks, and if kUM with lcknee
quickly core the patient.
MALARIA IN ITS VARIOUS FORMS.
TEYER AND AGUE,
RADWAY'S
M READY RELIEF.
Kot only enre the pst'ent !e'zei with ma'aria, but If
people rxpo?ed t-o it will, every rooming on rettlna"
out ol 'bed, take twenty or thirty drop oi the kjraDT
RKMFFina c!a of water, and drink, and eat a
cracker, they will escape atLicka.
Practicing With R. R. R.
t MoNTAGFE. Teiaa. Dr. RadwaT Cn Thar See
niii? your med:-jnes for the lict twenty reara. and In
all cases of ChiUs and Fever 1 hve nevrr tailed to
onre. I nev:;r use acythirg but BEADY RELIEF and
PILLS. THOS. J. JONES.
FRrtTXAVD. Iowa. Dear Sr: W are aeinv yme
medicine lor Typhoid and Maiarial Fever with tii
erratest beueflt. What R. R. R. and RadwaVe pir
have done no one can tell. JOIIX SCHCXTZ.
VALUABLE TESTIMONY!
Croton Lavptng, N. Y., June 53, Mear.
Radway & Co. Gentlemen: Lat aeaon 1 employed
boot 150 men, and dnrine the season they bought r
rue sixteen dozn bottle of Radway'a Ready Relie-f,
a larpe nomlr of nose of Pi! a and some Rol venu.
They use the Heady Riief in their dnnkmr water, 11
to lo drops in a plass of water, to prevent cramps and
keep off fever and ajrue; they al ose It (exteraaUy')
for b raises, aore hands, rheumatic pa ns vre throat,
etc. If by any chance we run out of your tnediciaea,
we have no poace nntil oar stock ia replaced. I, o:t
self. take IL K. K. be ore coin? out in the vard eir!y
in the morninc and am never troubled with fever and
ague. This yvar I was attacked with rheumatism,
and your Pills did me more good than any other modi
cine I took. Yours trulT,
Signed i 8. HAMILTON1, Jfc.
Mr. John Morton, of Verplane Point, N. Y., prrw
prietcrof the Hudson River Brick Manufacturing;
Company, says that he prevent and cures attacks oi
chills and fever in bis lanii'y ard amonz the mew in
his emplov by the nse of Ratwat's Rr.nT Reuw
Pills. Also the men in Mr. Frost "a brickyard at Lht
same place rely entirely on the K. Ii. K. lor the cur
and prevention of maiaria.
There is not a remedy aeent In tb world thawd
cure Fevtrr and Ague and all other Malarious, BiUona
and other Fevers Raided by RAD WAY'S PILLS) a
quickly as IMDWAY S READY BELIEF.
Radway's Reay Relief is a cure lor every pais.
Toothache, Headache, Sciatica, Lumbato, Nfirt1.;!,
Rhenmatism. Swelling of the Joints, Sprains, Brnis",
Pains in the Back, Chest or Limb.
The applicn! ion n tie Ready Relief to the part W
parts where the difficulty exists will afford lnstan
eaee and comfort.
FIFTY CENTS . FER BOTTLE.
Sold by Druggists.
BD AD WAY'S
III Sarsapariiiian
Resolvent.
The Great Blood Purifier.
Pure blood makes sonnd flesh, strcne bce anil
clear skin. If yon would hsve yonr flesh firm. yoiT
bones sound and vour complex :on lair, use KA.D
WAY'S SARJSAPARILLA RESOLVENT.
It possesses wonderful power in cur ne all forma of
Beroiuloos and Eruptive Diseases, Syphiloid, doera.
Tumors, Sores, Enlarged Glands, etc M rapidly and per
manently. Dr. Randolph Molntyre of !t. riyacinibe.
Can., sovs: "I comvlcteiy and inarve',on.iy cured a
victim of 8cro!u!.i in its lat stase by following your
advice p'.ven in your little treaties on tht disease.
J. F. T runnel.' South Louis. Mo., "was cured of
bad case of Sero;'ula after having been given up aa
incurahle."
Sold hj all DnijrsisUu
ONE DOLLAR PER BOTTLE.
DR. RADWATS
REGULATING PILLS,
THE GREAT LIVER AND STOVACH REMEDY.
Terfert Pnrpatires, Snothin? Aperiente, AeU
Without Pain, Alwav Reliable lad
Natural ia their Operation.
Perfectly tasteless, elegantly coated with sweet gum,
purge, regulate, cleanse nd trenpthen.
RADWAY'S PILLS for the cure of all oVaordera of
the Stomach, L,iver, Bowels. Kidneys, Bladder, Nerr.
ous Disease. Loss of Appetite, Headache. Constipa
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Fever, Inflammation of the How da, Pile and all de
rangements of the Internal Viscera. Purely vegetable,
containing no mercury, minerals or deleterious dings.
What a Physician Say of Raday' Pi".
1 am selling your R. R. Belief asd your Rerulatlnar
Pills, and have recommended them above aU pill a.od
sell a great many of them, and have there OD hand
always, aud use them in my pracUoe and tn my oww
lamiiy, and expect to, tn pre Vre nee of all piils.
Yocrs rrsreotfullv.
DR. A. C M1DDLKBK0ÖK, DoraTÜle, Oa.
DYSPEPSIA.
Dr. Radwsy'a Pills are a cure for tbi pornplaiat.
They ret-ore'strength to the tomsvb and eoHi is t4
Scrtorm it functions. The symptoms of Dyapepaiai
;snpprar and with them the liability of the tjslem to
contract disease.
RADWAY'S PILLS AND DYSPEPSIA.
Newport, Kt. Messrs. Dr. Iladway J; C Ge:
I have been troubled with Dyspepsia for atxwt foor
months. I tried two diSerenl doctors w-Hhout any
permanent benefit, I saw your al. and two eeta ap
bought a box of vour Regulator and feel a rreat deal
teller. Your I'if.s have done me more good than ail
the Doctor'a Medicine that 1 have tsk n, etc. 1 ana.
yoors respecUuily, KOBLKT A. PAGL.
Djspepala ot Long; Standing; Cored.
Pr. Radway I have for many yeara been afflicted
with Dvsoepala and Liver Ornplaint, and found bot
little re'liei until I pot your VU; and Resolvent, and
they made a pr'e-t cure. They are the best medicine
I ever bad in bit lue. Your tr end forever.
lUenchard, MicL. WILLIAM SOOSAX. '
Sold by Drujjgisit. Prioav So per Box.
Bad way A Co., Vo. 11 Wamsa-eV, New Tore.
To the Publia.
Bs Tis aqd ask for Badwav'a and aea that the uad