Democratic Sentinel, Volume 11, Number 35, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 September 1887 — A FALLEN IDOL. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A FALLEN IDOL.

BY JAMES FRANKLIN FITTS.

brief tale points a moral; or > rather,itillusiff Z ‘ trates a truth ' I J which is coextenJ sive with human exW perience. The truth, ' ■ honorable to human--5" ity, but none the ' AJJless remarkable, that r loving and devoted women will cling to jfeA unworthy men long after the world has hopelessly given them up for lost. We

cite but one more example out of hundreds of thousands. The announcement by Everett Travis to his parents of his clandestine marriage with Julia Carter, oue of the factory gir’s, was the cause of such an explosion of paternal wrath as does often really occur, outside the pages of romance. The senior Travis glared on his son in the most highly approved style of sensational fiction. “What! Married, do you say, and to one of those cotton-spinners? Well, by , sir, we’ll make short work of this foolishness! Find how much she wants, and you can pay her off; then go out West and get a divorce. And let this be the last of your wild oats, sir! It’s time you settled down and began life sensibly and steadily. ” “Sir, she’s my lawful wife. She’s good enough for any man in the State. I want to bring her here and have you and mother receive her as a daughter.” “I’m sure I’d be willing,” put in Mrs. Travis, with a thought of the far-off days when she used to do kitchenwork for wages. “And I’m sure she must be good, and that we can love her dearly. Let Everett bring her here, father.” “Never, madam! Never, you undutiful son! We’ve made an idol of you; I’ve educated you carefully and expensively; I’ve lavished money on you; I’ve spoiled you, perhaps. Anything reasonable I’ll stand, but this is a step too far. Repudiate that creature, take the means I have suggested to get rid of her, or I repudiate you forever. Choose, now. between her and me, with all that I have to give you. ” There could be no doubt what the choice would be at that time. In the flush of young love, with a temper lawfully inherited from this irate parent, and viewing the world through the roseate glasses of twenty-four, Everett Travis left his father's house, content to sacrifice his worldly prospects and advantages for the woman who was all in all to him. He lost no time in attempts at reconciliation, but removed at once to a flourishing Western city. Stories were told, probably true ones, of a stealthy visit by Everett’s mother before the removal ; of her forgiveness and blessing

to the fair young bride; of a welcome gift of money from the same kind hand, and of her promise to try and soften the stern father, and to write often. So they went to their new home. No letters were received from the yearning mother. Her first attempt to write was detected by her husband, and so sternly forbidden that she never dared make the attempt afterward. But travelers going to Joliet from this village frequently carried substantial tokens of maternal affection to the disinherited. Julia Carter had committed the common fault of woman in her marriage—she had taken counsel of the heart, and of nothing else. A handsome boyish face, a pleasant manner, assurances of unlimited devotion—these had captiva-

ted her; she had not dared to look beyond them. Had she looked beyond them she would have seen a character unformed, a frivolous disposition, a being who had thus far proven the ability to do nothing but to spend his father’s money, and whose capacity to earn bread for her was yet to be asserted. But then, she loved him; and what woman ever held any other argument than this, where the man of her choice was concerned? The years went by, and poor Julia became secretly convinced, by the hard logic of accomplished facts, that she had made a terrible mistake. She saw her fairy prince of a few years past, her elegant and dainttly raised Everett, a failure in all that ae undertook. She knew of his appealing by letter to his father for forgivness -and assistance, and she read the sarcastic refusal contained in the reply, with its sneering allusion to herself. She saw her husband become dissipated and deep sed; she bore children, and followed them to the grave, when better treatment and more comforts would have saved them. She labored with her hands as she had never labored in the cotton-mill She cleaved t) that unworthy man in the worst of ill-re-port, with a sublime faith and heroism which are only shown by women. “Time softens all asperities.” Years of practical childlessness produced their natural effect upon the father of Everett Travis. The barriers of pride and obstinacy were strong and high; but at last they yielded. A letter came to the poor Western home, informing the son that his mother was stricken with paralysis, and likely to die. It implored him to return at once, bringing his wife, and gave repeated assurance that everything should be forgiven. The answer, anxiously expected, was brief and unsatisfactory. It was written by Julia. She said that both her husband and herself were saddened by the intelligence of his mother’s illness; that both wished to go at once to her, but they could not. Everett could not write, and he had requested her to do so. “Is that all asked the dying mother. “Yes, Sophy; that’s all.” “Oh, dear! I shall never see him again—my darling, my only child! Did you send them money to come, Timothy?” “No,” groaned the repentant father. “I didn’t think of that.” “O, Timothy!” “But I don’t believe they’d come, anyway. It’s a queer letter. She don’t even say that Evvy is sick.” When the sufferer was dead and buried, Mr. Travis resolved to go in person and look up his wayward son. A long railroad journey brought him to the city of his home, and witli much difficulty he found his mean habitation. To the thin, careworn woman whom he found there, he introduced himself as Everett’s father. She looked at him with stony eyes. “I am his wife,” she said. “You disowned him years ago on my account; now you have come too late to find him.” “He is net dead?” Mr. Travis cried. “No; but if you persist in seeing him you will wish he was.” “Where is he? Take me to him.” “Beware, sir! I warn you. I say it is too late for your hard heart to be moved. You had better go back, and not insist on seeing him.” “I must see him.” She put on her battered bonnet and faded shawl, and without a word conducted him through busy streets to a gloomy and vast stone building. They walked through offices, halls, and courts and were stopped by a man at a strongly barred door. “Do you want to look, Mrs. Travis?” the guard respectfully asked. “Yes; do •you look, too?”

Her companion did as she directed. Through a wicket in the door that the guard unclosed some hundreds of men were seen marching across a large open court. Guards with muskets were posted about. The men who marched had close-cropped hair and wore a queer striped dress. Each man of the double-file had his right hand on the left shoulder of the man next in front of him. Among them Mr. Travis recognized his son. “Why, what’s all this?” he asked. “You are in the State’s Prison, sir,” said Julia, coldly. “Yonder is your son —my husband. You repudiated him because he chose to marry me; he had not strength enough to be a man without your help—and there he is. I warned you, but you would come. ” The old man’s pride and coldness returned at once. “What is he here for?” he asked. “For a killing done in a drunken brawl. He is in for life.” “Come away, then. I never want to hear his name again. Once more I disown him, but I will provide for you. The law will free you from him; lie is civilly dead. Come home with me.” Poor, distressed, almost hopeless, she flashed such indignation upon him that he cowered away from her. “He is my husband,” she said. “You, his own father, may cast him away; I will never leave him. I know all you said of him and me when we were wedded. 1 saw the two letters you wrote him. He was your idol. You have shown—you are showing—how cheap a thing a father’s love may be. I am his wife, I say; that is my answer.” He tried to put money in her hands, to tell her of a large check he would send her. “I will burn it,” she answered, and left him. She went back to her loneliness and hard poverty. But the result was what might easily be foreseen. The woman’s faith, love, and endurance had their reward.

In a few years Everett Travis was set free and came out from his hard discipline a man. The fallen idol was replaced upon its pedestal; the wife’s fidelity was abundantly rewarded, and his father was glad to welcome him as his son and heir, with a worthy daughter.