The story of my life ; or, The sunshine and shadow of seventy years / by Mary A. Livermore ... with hitherto unrecorded incidents and recollections of three years' experience as an army nurse in the great Civil War, and reminiscences of twenty-five years' experiences on the lecture platform ... to which is added six of her most popular lectures ... with portraits and one hundred and twenty engravings from designs by eminent artists ...

232

THE STORY OF MY LIFE.

"Ten dollarsI Fifteen dollars! Twenty! Fifty! You shall
have whatever you need. Get out of this hell as quick
as you can! Run away, Matt! I will help you!"
His eyes burned into mine, the color came to his cheek,
his chest heaved, his heart beat wildly, his apathetic despair
was gone,- but only for a moment. Slowly his eyes closed,
and turning his head wearily, he said, "Eb'rybody dat runs
away from dis yere place allers gits cotched an' brung
back; an' den Mas'r James sells 'em down Souf, an' dat's
hell."
I dared not prolong my visit farther, and, as stealthily as
if I were on an unholy errand, I departed; not, however,
until I had reassured the despairing fellow that I was
his friend and stood ready to help him at any time, and
in any way that I could. Years after, I was scared at the
risk I ran in making this visit,_ but at the time I was at the
happy age when one knows nothing and fears nothing, and
I suffered no anxiety lest evil consequences should result
from my interview with the poor fellow.
I saw Matt many times after. When he was able to
resume his place in the cooper's shop, he was again, as
of yore, the reliable workman, the trustworthy servant; but
the life had gone out of him. He never rallied from the
physical and mental injury he had received,-his wounds
had gone too deep. There was never again on his face the
grave look of pleasure that used to greet us when we
entered his shop,--never a hint of gratification if his work
were praised,-never a word of inquiry nor offer of help.
He became moody, smileless, taciturn, unapproachable. In
the two years that followed, he aged twenty. The fine
proportions of his figure shrank, his eyesight failed and
grew dim, and he walked with bent form and uncertain
step. He avoided everybody, and was avoided in return.