Three nights with the Washingtonians / by T.S. Arthur.
- Arthur, T. S. (Timothy Shay), 1809-1885.
- Date:
- [between 1800 and 1899?]
Licence: Public Domain Mark
Credit: Three nights with the Washingtonians / by T.S. Arthur. Source: Wellcome Collection.
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![“ You can go, child. But I fear the effort will be in vain.” “ How much do you owe him ?” “ Over two hundred dollars.” Again the true-hearted child extended her hand through the iron bars that imprisoned the dear object of her soli¬ citude, and grasped with a strong pressure the hand of her father. “I will be back again soon, dear father!” she said, trying to assume a cheerful voice—“ And I feel confident that I shall bring you good news.” “I fear not. But still I will hope. And may heaven bless you, my child! ” the prisoner uttered fervently. “ Be of good cheer! ” and as the daughter said this, she pressed, again, affectionately, the hand that was held in hers, and then turning away, glided swiftly out of the prison. Once beyond the walls of that gloomy abode, the first serious thoughts of the duty imposed upon herself, came up in her mind with painful distinctness. Mr. Bailey, the father of him who had won her heart, and whose image still lived in her memory a dear and cherished thing, was the man whose selfishness and inhumanity had thrown her own father into prison, and to him she must go, and sue for mercy. The very thought made her feel sick and faint. Since James Bailey had parted from her more than two years before, with a warmth and tenderness in his manner even unusual for him, she had neither heard his voice nor seen his face. The fear of encountering him, therefore, made her shrink from her duty with an inconceivably painful reluctance. But that duty could not be shunned, and she went onwards in the performance of it, with something of the same feeling with which it may be supposed the martyrs of old went up to the stake. It was about eleven o’clock, on the same morning, that James Bailey turned his head away from the desk at Which he was sitting, to glance towards the door of the counting room, and observe who it was that had swung it open. The visitor was a neatly dressed young woman, but her head was partly turned from him, so that he could not see her face. She closed the door after her quietly, and then moved towards the part of the room where old Mr. Bailey sat before a table covered with papers and packages. Here she paused, and the old man looked up into her face with a severe, frowning scrutiny. In vain did the visitor essay to speak her errand. Her tongue seemed paralysed, and refused to perform its office. “Well, what do you want, young woman?” Mr. Bailey inquired, in a rough voice, and with a coarse familiar manner. “ My—my—my name is Kate Hamilton,” stammered out the poor girl, whose heart fluttered in her bosom like a newly caged bird. “ Kate Hamilton ! ” ejaculated the old man, instantly rising to his feet, his whole manner becoming changed and excited. “ And pray, Miss, what is your business with me?” “ My father”—was all that Kate could utter. “Is in jail, and shall rot there!” exclaimed Mr. Bailey -—still more excited as the interview proceeded. “ O, sir, do not say so,” the daughter urged, her voice becoming calmer, and her self-possession beginning to return. “ Remember that my father is old and poor. Keeping him in jail cannot pay the debt. The only hope for that, is in releasing him.” “ Ha! ha!—And a precious hope that would be! No— no. He wilfully neglected his business, and, in conse¬ quence, cheated me out of more than two hundred dollars, and he shall be made an example of for the good of so¬ ciety. So go home, girl, and make yourself easy about it. My mind is made up- He shall die in jail—the drunken vagabond!” Anger with Mr. Bailey was a species of intoxication, and under its influence, like others under the influence of wine, he said things that in sober moments he would not have uttered. But his last bitter sentence, was not, for this, any the less wounding to the feelings of Miss Hamilton. In spite of her strong effort at self-control, this cruel remark so touched her, that she hid her face in her hands, and wept and sobbed for a few moments pas¬ sionately. From this she was aroused by the remark— •• You needn’t suppose, Miss, that your tears can have any effect upon me. I have seen too many in my day. And now, I advise you to go home, and let this matter rest. Your father is a thousand times better off in j&jl than if he were out.” “I cannot go, sir,” Kate now said, looking up, and endeavouring to dry her tears—“until you have con¬ sented to release my father.” “ Go home, girl. “ Let me implore you, sir. Remember what he one was. Remember the former condition of her who nov pleads with you. Think how wrung her spirit must be and let those tears urge you. O, sir. do not thus harder your heart! ” “ Go out of this office, I tell you! ” “ 0, sir, my father cannot stay there I Look at me Here, I plead for him thus (sinking on her knees, anc clasping her hands together). O, sir, hear me!—hea me! ” and her voice sunk into a low choking sob. “Away! I will not hear you!” the old man said, in voice loud and furious. Then advancing towards her, he lifted her strongly b; one harm to her feet—led her to the door—opened ii thrust her out, closed it, and then returned to his sea and commenced poring over his papers. But little, how ever, of their sense was apparent to his mind. As he di so his son turned from his desk, and went out throug- the back door of the counting-room. Mechanically Kate Hamilton turned away from th; merchant’s counting-room, and moved along the pave ment, scarcely conscious of her own identity. Her min was bewildered, and her thoughts confused. From thi dreamy state of obscurity and wretchedness, she wa startled by the sound of a voice close to her ear—an ol familiar voice, to which, even in memory, her heart ha ever echoed with a quickened pulsation. “ Mis s Hamilton!,” She paused and turned quickly. It was James Baile who stood by her side. “ Take this,” he said—“ tell no one where it came from And may God in heaven bless you! ” Thus saying, in an agitated tone, he slipped a sma piece of paper into her hand, and turning away, glided e once from her sight. The whole scene passed so quickly that it seemed like bewildering dream. But the piece of paper in her han attested its reality. Glancing down upon it, she saw wh¬ an emotion that made the tears spring to her eyes, that: was a cheque for two hundred and twenty-five dollar:) Without a thought more, she turned her steps again to¬ wards the jail, and almost ran the whole of the way. The cheque was for the exact amount of debt and cost: and was at once received by the warden, and old M:1 Hamilton set at liberty. This imprisonment had tb effect to sober and subdue his mind. He inwardly re solved that he would drink no more. This resolution hi did not communicate to his daughter. The subject of h love of drink was one to which the most remote allusio had never been made by one to the other. Neither coul speak of it—the father nor the child. But she saw in day or two that there had occurred a change, and ho heart trembled in her bosom with a new hope. As th house in which they lived could not be retained, on a< count of the high rent, and because they had no furnitui to put into it, a new home was sought. Far in tt suburbs, a very small house was obtained at the lo rent of five dollars a month, and into this, the one wealthy merchant and his beautiful and accomplishe daughter, removed. No servant could, of course, be en ployed, for there were no means with which to pay on and indeed, little prospect of even the barest necessarh of life. All the woi’k of the house, even the washing an ironing, as well as the cooking, fell upon Kate. In the second week after their removal to this ne’ home, if a home it could be called, and when both bega Jo despond as to the means of obtaining the simple: , necessaries of life, a storekeeper in Franklin-street, wl had at one time bought largely of Mr. Hamilton,-and whj had always felt a regard for him, that his miscondu< could not entirely extinguish, offered him a situation in his store at four hundred dollars a year. This was glad] accepted And now there was a glimmering of light upc the gloomy path of his child. Every night her fatfx came home sober, and brought her each week the fu amount of wages that he received. In S&eir new cond - tion, their wants were few, and some eight dollars eac week supplied them all. One evening, about three months after this happ: change, Kate sat waiting for her father’s return, with feeling of unusual cheerfulness. She heard his hand : last upon the latch, and rose to her feet to meet him wit a smiling welcome. But a single glance at his face su ficed to tell the fatal truth, that he had again been drill 1 ing—this, his unsteady step confirmed, and her heart sail like lqad in her bosom. No word was uttered by eithe The meal passed in painful and oppressive silence, an after it was over, Mr. Hamilton took his hat and wet out. It was after nine o'clock when he returned, in state of reeling intoxication, and sought his bed. In tl morning he went, as usual, to the store in which he w: employed. At dinner time, it was plainly evident to tl](https://iiif.wellcomecollection.org/image/b30558955_0006.jp2/full/800%2C/0/default.jpg)
