Judge — July 15, 1882 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE HAND OF FATE. alled at eve when the night shades fell; She smiled at his coming, the artful be For she knew he bad rocks, and she loved him well. - Wrich is why this tale to the world I tell. The parent-antique—in short, the old n Was smoking as only And out on the porch where the ivies ma was yawning behind he ‘old man can; fan. know what time shall betide? rth is old and the world is wide; The seasons die, bat the years abide, And some see folly, and all know pride. What fa What spell As he sits in By th may exist in the fature dread ?— .g8 over the young f Mild moonlight falls o'er the little lane, 4 slant wide thro iles ike a sky-bo She smiles, and he would she we the bialfraised pane; after rain— Id smile ag: All sudden the air gave voice to the clan; Which followed the smack, as he upward sprang, as her laughter long, loudly rang The youth fell back—he had swallowed her b very thin ski pe had th He Knew Longfellow “Tue poet Longfellow is dead, is he not, young man?” asked an old weather-beaten specimen of humanity sat on the bench of our village park trying to invent an item for our paper. “Yes,” we answered, sadly, ‘he joined the immortal band gone before. has taken his candle, and gone to bed; we linger to cover up the ashes that still burn,’ s he has so sweetly expressed i “Oh, Longey! Longey!” the old man waiied, “jt is true. For this I have crossed the seas, to hear of your death on the threshold of home.” Here the old man gave vent to a flood of tear Instinctively we knew it was a fir: terview. We waited until his grief calmed down, and we remarked: “You seem agitated on hearing his death confirmed. Was he a relative of yours, or a friend “Agitated at the death of Longfellow! Well, L ought to be, young man.” Here he broke out into another flood of 18 We has be d, we told him our oceu- pation; implored him to give us the story of 1s it must be an interesting one. cannot give you the story of my li ation, my young friend; but I will giv much as is connected with my Longe At nineteen I found myself at college with Jlow—his room-mate, bed-mate, el lesk-mate; in fact, his other self. “Nothing happened to mar the great love between us until we woke one morning to find that we loved the same girl. “Oh, Mamie! Mamie! how madly I loved ‘He | Demon of Darkness D. of D.-Oh, pshae t Txeen a hoof Whe you, and love you yet, although more than a half a century has passed since then. | “Ile was a poet—wrote sonnets to her eyes, her beautiful eyebrows, her form; in fact, he had her all reduced to a sonnet. “What chance had I? “Twas no poet—true, I added a verse to his ‘Psalins of Life,’ but I could not compose anything of love fit to show the girl I loved. “T used to work her problems for her, for my ON mind dwelt cs, but between mathematics and poetry, Longey carried the day on om he was the d nith ina neighboring village “When Longey brought the focus of his po- | ctical genius on the old man, and produced ‘The Village Blacksmith,’ we felt, as Car- | id, ‘that the light had gone out of our ughter of a black: “T shipped on a whaler, dnd never returned till this morning to my native land, “Timade a vow never to return, but as I | felt my end approachi longing to come back to see my old schoolmate, now a great | man, seized 1 | * And I could not r ist it. faction I can have is to weep ov “Tow far is it | spot where he lie “Tt would cost five dollars toget there, and it is over four hundred n we answered. “My young friend,” he said, brokenly, and mny friend, to the sacree the propertypman BEHIND THE Say, bom, have you seen one of my horns layin rout anyichere sumew'eres. 2 Lean't go on the stage like a Mamet rhinne hame was plainly struggling with pride, “could you lend a broken-hearted old man the money?” Reader, we did, and more. We felt that the interview was worth it; it would raise us in the estimation of the paper. We shook hands and parted— Tle to the grave of the immortal poct, and Ito the office, where I got the interview in in time for the evening edition, Next morning the nasty, dirty rival sheet s the way printed my interview entire, held with him, to the effect that it was the tenth time he was before him for being drunk, and he felt constrained to give him six month: Our folks concluded that I was too enterpris- ing for their small paper, and I ought to seek a wider ficld of usefulness. I have applied for a position on the /eralé, and my friends tell me that the interview would be a good recommendation for a posi- tion. alongside of another the police judg T. Lats, Dosanve A SCIENTIST say matter, you have mz tion in indissoluble synth tion.” We sha prove the contrary matter, then matter matter if one prod of matte prove that matter is mass, the result is the nd that’s what's the matter, of mo- conjune: tter to if man is not 3 of 1 comicbooks.com