LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 2019, 13 August 1880, Page 3

LITERATURE.

DUE EVENING PAETY.

( Concluded ) And her exaltation was increased by several of our guests who called in the afternoon, and lisped the usual phrases on such an occasion. ‘ Delightful gathering.' 4 Enjoyed ourselves so much.’ ‘ Quite a success, ’

When Mrs Tyner called, however, she threw a little damp on my wife’s ardour. She pretended to praise—she was always more malicious when she did that.

4 How very good of you to take all this trouble—so, unexpected, too!’ she added. * And how very well you did manage, considering you were quite unaccustomed to this sort of thing ! It must have been a moat formidable undertaking, I’m sure. And I hope you, Mr Miller, were not very much behindhand with your work in consequence.’ Generally I could give Mrs Tyner a Boland for her Oliver ; but on the present occasion my conscience sided so much with her in her politely-veiled sarcasms—l mean, X thought them so just then—that I really could only matter oat some commonplace answer.

4 I’m afraid you are a little tired with your exertions, Mrs Miller; indeed, they msst have been immense,’ continued the merciless virago, seeing that I was in no mood for reply. 4 But, I’m sure, it was very kind of you to give us a pleasant evening. And as you are such very old friends, I think I may tell you a little secret, just to show how much we are indebted to you. Ah ! I dare say you know what it is. Fred Kelly proposed to Ellen last night, and it is all arranged - so kind of you, I’m sure, to give him the opportunity. And we think it will be a vary nice match, don’t you, Molly?’ Poor Molly held out till Mrs Tyner was gone, when she made a rush to her own room, with a tear in her eye. She had scarcely left ns when a doable knock announced the postman. * It is from Wotherspoon,’ I said, opening the letter. 'Do you know I think our new splendours, Jane, made ns seem a little rude to him yesterday ?’ ‘ Ah, well I if I am never rude to anyone of more consequence than Mr Wotherspoon, It will be no great matter,’ she replied, contemptuously. * But I am grieved and vexed beyond measure about this young Kelly. Ellen Tyner, indeed!’ ‘Dear me!’ said I, as I glanced over Wotherspoon’s letter; 'you’ll like to hear this, I think. Jane.’ So I read it to her. ‘Dear Miller—l am very sorry to be obliged to leave without calling to bid you good-bye, but I have just met gome friends • who are going to Italy, and I have decided to accompany them. As we start to-morrow, I am in an awful hurry, and I shall be away at least two years.’ ‘And a very good thing, too,’ interrupted my wife. ‘ Do you know I am quite sura he would have made Patty an offer last night if I had not looked so well after her that I never gave him the chance 1 I have always wondered, James, yon never would see the depth of that man. However, we shall be I safe from him for some time, it seems.’ ' Quite safe,’ said I. 1 There, I told you, James ! ’ broke in my wife again. ' One of those things, you may depend on it, was a proposal, and I’m glad I stopped it.’ ‘ All right, only do let me finish. • And to tell you the truth, I was a little nettled (you know I was always too sensitive) [because I thought Mrs _ Miller, last night, scarcely treated me with quite the kindness due to an old friend. 80 I ran away early, and did not say what I intended. Perhaps it is as well. One bit of news about me, however, I am sure you will be glad to hear, and I feel that I ought not to go away without telling you. A few days ago. to my immense delight and astonishment, I received a lawyer’s letter informing me that I was heir-at-law to a distant relative who had died in Jamaica; so that I have dropped all at once into five thousand a year. Rather jolly, isn’t it ? But I won’t forget all your five-pound notes ; and if ever you want a little cash, old fellow, just ask your old and obliged friend, ‘R. Wothekspoov. 4 Five thousand a year !’ groaned my wife now. ‘But how could I know, James! Why didn’t Mr Wotherspoon tell us V ‘ Well, probably, dear, because you stopped him so adroitly,’ said I, laughing maliciously - ' and perhaps he first wished to see whether we cared for him without his money P 1 4 Oh dear, oh dear ! couldn’t I write a note of apology and bring him back V •Ho; if I know Wotherspoon, it is too late. As you said, Jane, he is too deep for that.’ ' Ah ? well,’ said she piteously, ‘ and this is all the reward one gets for putting _ one’s self out of the way and going to all this expense to give one’s friends a treat. Our motives, I could not help thinking, had not been quite so disinterested as my wife had wished to make out. Few people do give parties, I fear, on the pure principles of Pickwickian benevolence. However, we had a lesson, and I am happy to say our first evening party was our last. BEFRIENDING A “POOR OLD MAN,” AND THE RESULT. On the 3rd of January, during the cold which reiened so severely in Paris, at the moment when the snow was falling in heavy flakes, a stoppage of passengers, horses, and vehicles took place suddenly at the corner of the Rue St. Honore and the Rue de I’ArbreSec. 'What’s the matter?’’ asked a young man, whose accent declared him to be an inhabitant of the South of France. ‘I really can’t inform you, monsieur. I was going to ask the question myself. • it's only a man who has fallen on the ice,’ said an old orange woman who had overheard the colloquy ; ‘ nothing more.’ • it’s a man dead drunk,’ said a porter, pushing his way out of the crowd. • Bah! ’ cried an old woman ; ‘ I bet it s one of those (cursed omnibusses which has overturned some wretch. I had my leg broken by one, two years ago! ’ ‘No such thing,’ cried a stout man, warmly wrapped up in a thick wrap-rascal,_ a large handkerchief up to his nose, and his hands fixed in his side-pockets; ‘it’s no such . thing. I’ts a man struck with cold and i hunger. He is dying—that s evident. Poor man! I should have stopped to give him i some assistance, but the fact is I am too late as it iff, for my wife ia waiting dinner for 1 me. Pardon, monsieur, permit me to pass.’ The stranger, however, to whom the ■ request was addre!E#i, pushed the stout man in the contrary direction, and pressed

through the crowd of gazers until he arrived at the spot where the cause of this assemblage was lying. There, tea- the fountain, was extended on the ice an old man scarcely covered with a few rags The stranger, yielding only to the dictates of a kind heart, stepped down, and was in the act of raising the unhappy man, when a cry b'oke the silence of the crowd, and a sweet voice exclaimed, ‘lt’s my poor old man!’ At the same moment a young girl, piercing the crowd, joined her feeble aid to that cS the stranger. ‘You know him then?’ he demanded, without looking at the new comer, but trying to prevent her from having any share cf the harden.

* Yes and no, monsieur’ she replied; 'I know him by sight, but am igaorant of his name ’

A third person came to acid his assistance to the efforts of the young people. l lt is old Gerald! ’ he said ; ‘ hs must have gone out this morrirg, the first time for these four days. This way, monsieur,’ said he, speaking to the stranger, ‘he lives here at number thirty, and I am the porter of the house. Come, lei me take your place, my little woman, ’ continued he to the young girl; ‘ this gentleman and I can take him to his room in the top of the house. It is sheer want that has reduced him to this state. They say he was once rich, and I believe it; for it is only the rich, who a 1 low themselves to famish from hunger when they are poor—we have still two storeys to go ap —I would not be guilty of such a foolish act i I would at once go to the mayor sad demand aid. Take care—the stairs are steep ; it is eo dark here yen can’t well Be© it. It is different with me, lam used to the place—that’s the door. Push ! He never needed a key to lock up his property, poor man. They say Gerald is not hia name. Liable! how cold it is up here under these tiles! ’ They placed the old man on some straw in one corner of the garret, and the stranger hastened to feel his pulse. ‘He is dying of cold and want,’ said he ; * here, my friend, here’s some money for you ; bring up some soup, some wine, and a fi’-e.’ The porter held out hia hand for the money, when the stranger suddenly exclaimed, after having searched hia pockets—‘ Good heavens, they have taken my purse!’ and hia features expressed most vividly vexation and fear for the old man’s recovery. * I will get them,’ cried a gentle voice. It was that of the young girl, who had followed tnem nnperceived. She hurried out of the room, and returned speedily ; f<.r she perceived that the slightest delay might be fatal, A woman followed her bringing fire and wood, with which she lit a fire and then retired. The young messenger was loaded with a bottle of wine, a small loaf, and the wing of a fowl, wrapped up in a piece of newspaper. She placed the whole near the old man, and then, kneeling down, arranged the fire and stirred it up to & blaze.

(To be continued