I remember when I lived in Brooklyn there used to be a fence
around the City Hall. A man used to stand there, grasping the
iron railing in his hand, and looking up at the clock, every
day at noon; and when it struck 12, he would count each stroke
and look about him, his face full of joy and hope. But after
two or three minutes the light would fade out of his eyes, and
he would be turned into an old man, and would drag his feet
slowly away. For nine years he did this, until death took him.
I was told that at some great business crisis of his life a
man had promised to bring him some hundreds of dollars at a
particular time, to rescue him from failure. The man did not
come, and he found out he never intended to come; and the
great disappointment shattered his brain, and day after day he
was at the City Hall, looking for the man who never came. The
guilt of human hearts has made men give promises to get rid
of importunate persons. Some of us have become cynics because
we have found men so ready to promise falsely.--D. A.
GOODSELL.
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