my amazement when upon beholding me
Mr. Smith burst into tears. I do not remember ever to have been more
astounded than by this sudden transition from gayety to grief. I could
hardly find words to ask my friend what trouble had befallen him.

"I was hoping to meet no one," he sobbed, "for I am in no condition of
mind to associate with my fellow-beings."

"It is evident," I interposed, "that some great sorrow has come upon
you; surely you would not hesitate to come to me for sympathy."

"You are right," said Mr. Smith, making a heroic effort to gather
himself together. "It would be selfish of me not to give so dear a
neighbor as you a chance to share my misery. Read this."

He handed me a bit of printed stuff which he had evidently cut from a
newspaper. I stood under the street lamp and read it in this wise:

KANSAS CITY, May 23.--During the thunder-storm to-day Mrs. Bolivar
Bowers, wife of the well-known scientist, was struck and destroyed by
lightning. Deceased leaves a husband and five children; no insurance.

"Ah, I see," said I in my gentlest tone; "she was a dear
friend--perhaps a relative of yours."

"No, not that," said Mr. Smith, still sobbing; "you misinterpret my
grief. This party was in no way akin to me except under that common
descent from the old Adam which makes all humanity brothers and
sisters. I did not know deceased, nor did I ever see her."

"Then why," I asked, in some astonishment, "why are you so moved by the
news of her death?"

"To one of my nature," exclaimed Mr. Smith, "the circumstances detailed
in this item are most painful to contemplate. We find here recorded
the sudden demise of the sole support of a husband and five children--a
wife and mother snatched away by death, leaving a helpless family
without any visible means of support."

"But why without any means of support?" I asked.

"It says so," answered Mr. Smith. "The husband is a scientist and is
therefore by nature and by occupation disqualified for earning a
livelihood."

"Surely enough," said I, "that is quite true."

"Can you picture a more distressing scene," continued Mr. Smith, still
in tears, "than that of this helpless father and his five little ones
standing above that lifeless lady and wondering where their food and
raiment will come from now? It is sad, it is agonizing, it is awful!
And yet it all might have been averted--all this solicitude about the
future. Had Mrs. Bolivar Bowers taken out