HE HAD not known just when the hump had first appeared on his back. As a youth he had been straight and stalwart, clear of eye, full of high ideals. Then he found that he possessed the Midas touch. Gradually and imperceptibly this Midas touch possessed him. Absorbed in the love of money, greedily reaching out for new sources of income, he became a tyrant, ruthlessly pushing away every person that became an obstacle in his pursuit of more money and still more money.

One day he awoke as from a wild dream to find himself weary and sick, oppressed as though by some great burden. It was then that he realized how useless in his extremity was this money that was his god.

True it brought him servants who waited upon him meticulously, but he had seen them looking at him through eyes filled with covert contempt, yea, with even dislike, as they bowed before him. Often he assured himself, “My money can give me all that I desire; what then is missing in this service? Bah, there are others!”

But though he dismissed them and others came, they brought him no love, nothing but paid-for servility. He became more and more despotic as illness of mind and body overcame him, demanding the unreasonable, until at last he found himself abandoned by all except the money which now seemed powerless to give him back his health, fill the empty hours of his days, or bring sleep to his tortured nights.

He traveled to distant lands seeking peace. Far from the busy city in which he had sought and found money and power, now in lovely pastoral lands, vainly he sought for tranquility.

Long ago he had ceased to look in the mirror, because there he had seen the evil face of a stranger. One day he paused beside a clear, deep pool; as he bent down to drink from its limpid depths he drew back in horror at the sight of the huge hump on his back.

Cautiously he turned around to see if it might be some stranger thus deformed standing behind him. But no, he was alone. Shuddering he gazed at the hideous growth before his unbelieving eyes—it seemed to writhe and move. He reached a trembling hand to touch it; beneath his fingers he felt the horrible, unmistakeable hump. At last he realized why he had been shunned and deserted by men. Hating them for it, he told himself that he cared not; did he not have his money!

But at the thought he cried aloud in anguish, “Oh, God — — !” And then he stopped—he knew no God but Money. Where was his money now? Could Money bring back the old health and the satisfaction that had been his?

Through long agonizing moments he contemplated an intolerable and hopeless existence, until a power within rose and shook him as if to free him from all restraint. A thought struck him. Was this the way of release? “Yes, he cried, triumphantly. “In oblivion’s dark waters I will find peace! At last, I leave you behind!”

Then impelled by this power greater than himself, he plunged into the pool before him. And the world wondered why this man so blessed by his great wealth had found a suicide’s grave.

THERE was a daughter, who long ago had run away from him, rejoicing over the sum of money he had settled upon her. There were no tears on the greedy face behind the black veil of sorrow as she came forward to claim the heritage that was now hers.

In a far country in the midst of a vast estate, purchased with her father’s money, she lorded it over the throngs who accepted her because of her wealth. There came to her a wizzened babe with a hump on its back. Shuddering she drew back from the anguished eyes that looked up at her out of its old wrinkled face. Again the world exclaimed, “Why should this babe come to her with all her money?”

“Take it away!” she cried, and tried to escape the pleading eyes in the wild tempo of society’s mad whirl.

The babe grew up into a misformed lad, shunned and pitied by all. His heart was filled with the hatred that had been born with him. He sometimes wondered why he did not seek an end to an existence so intolerable, and though he knew not the reason within his consciousness there was the realization that some place, some where, he must find another solution to the riddle of his life.

When grown to young manhood, disguised as a peasant, he took to the open road, and in the contemplation of misery greater than his own he found his greatest enjoyment. It was at this time while on his wanderings that he encountered a little blind beggar, surrounded by a crowd of cruel urchins who sought to take his beggar’s alms away. For the first time in his own miserable life his soul was touched by the softening hand of pity. With the knowledge of the unseen wealth and power behind him, he cried in tones of authority, “Begone! ye scum of the gutter. For shame, fighting with one who cannot see!”

Abashed, they slunk away. The blind child looked up with sightless but adoring eyes, “You must be great and strong!”

“I—great and strong!” laughed the other; but in his laughter was the emptiness of despair.

“You are, you are. Oh, take me with you that I may be protected by your strong right arm.”

For the first time the man knew the joy of another’s trusting confidence. Within himself he felt the stirring of that which was the beginning of love, and in response his whole being was filled with hope. So they journeyed forth together, and to the child who was blind he was a being perfect, straight, and strong, a being who had rescued him from fear, misery, and want. Out of his gratitude he lavished love upon one who had never known love.

Under the influence of this love, which knew only perfection, the one who had been born with a hump saw a new world, a world which needed the money that was his. As he cared for his blind little protege he saw others who needed his help. He forgot his own deformity under the influence of this new hope. As he felt the growing power of that love within him he straightened up and looked at the everlasting hills, and although he said nothing he acknowledged GOD.

Then came the day when a great surgeon promised sight to the one who loved him. “No, no!” he cried; “then will he see me as I am and no longer will he love me.”

In the dark hours of temptation’s night he fought for this one being who had loved him as a perfect man. But in the end Love triumphed over his human self, and he bade the surgeon proceed with the operation. For a time he thought he would flee rather than face those eyes which would see the hump with which he had been born; but ever the child clung to the hand of this one that he loved.

Then as he sat beside the child for the first time he prayed, “Oh, God, I care not for myself, but for the sake of this child may I appear to him the being he thinks I am, a being strong and perfect, the perfect creation of Thy great mercy.”

Then came to him a great peace and joy such as he had never before known. Humbly he waited as the surgeon removed the bandages from the child’s eyes, eyes which now looked up at him, as the child cried, “I see, I see! And thou art here, strong, perfect and more beautiful than I had ever dreamed!”