The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1846-01-13 00:00:00

breath, " best to say nothing of him. Poor
shall see you no more till we meet in Hea-

rew forth a chain from a box—a gold wedding
ich, if we judge from the interest with which she
d it, she prized highly. The girl had hastily at-
If in shawl and bonnet,—both greatly the worse
is, and offering bat slight protec-
v of the season.

She dr

tired her:
for wear,
Lion from

I you to

Take that to the pawnshop at Rookfield, and ask them
hillings upon it.. Mind you don't lose it,
►,P ticket and the money safe home,"

the chain, carefully wrapped

as the s

fawn—shaking her glossy curls as she ran—her cheeks
glowing with the exercise. She sang like a delighted bird

wild and lacked the culture that would have fitted thew
for the ear of refinemeit. Onward and onward. Eight

.s were accomplished. She waaat Rookfield

She entered the pawnbroker's shop boldly, for she was
not ashamed of honest poverty, and'felt, perhaps, like many
others who have sought, under temporary need, the same
accommodation, that it is better to borrow money of a
tradesman (not an usurer) in the way of business, than to
ask a loan from a friend. The shopkeeper, after many
questions, and much impertinence, for he saw the girl was
poor, and, in his own opinion, he was an individual of
great importance himself, consented to take the ring, but
would only lend half the sum demanded.

" Five shillings, and if you don't redeem it I shall lose
by it," said the man, with as much apparent sincerity as

the truth

" Well then, five shillings," sighed Jane

The ticket was made out. The money was paid, and
Jane left the shop. It was a great disappointment to have
got only five shillings for the ring. It would not last long,
husband it as best they might. She was strongly tempted
to beg. ,Would her grandmother be angry ? It was mar-
ket-day at RookfiM, and there were many well-dressed
people walking in the streets—ladies with smiling, happy
faces—some of them leading by the hand little girls,
younger than herself, who were snugly wrapped up in furs
and pelisses. Then these ladies were buying at the shops
—not mere necessaries, but luxuries and dainties—toys for
their children, ornaments for their houses, fruits and pre-
serves for family enjoyment. .

Ah," thought Jane," those ladies who have so much
money to spend will not refuse to help me. I won't show
them the five shillings—but no—no," and she hastily
corrected herself, " I have five shillings, and that, as
grandmam says, will keep the wolf from the door. There
are poor folks here who perhaps have not got a penny—let
them get alms from tho,e who are disposed to give. If I
were to beg, I should only wrong such as have neither
money nor food."
Thoughts akin to these passed rapidly through the girl's
mind, and she determined to return home without delay,
lest her grandmam should grow uneasy at her long ab-

sence. And, in the act of increasing her pace, she felt for
her money, which, folded in paper, she had thrust into her
bosom, to assure herself that it was safe. Alas, alas !it
was gone ! The ticket was also gone.
They were gone. With ashy face and palpitating heart,
she felt and felt again. They were gone. Overpowered
by her misfortune, she sat down upon a door-step, and
wept in agony. The house to which the doorstep belonged
was evidently the habitation of a wealthy individual. It
was situated in the aristocratic quarter of Rookfield.
Moreover, it was exactly fronting the Church, whose ta-
per spire pointed, like the clergyman's Sabbath finger,
upward ; and which, being thus set, even on week dayi,
before the eyes of those who dwelt in this and the adjoin-
ing houses, could not but revive in their minds each morn-
ing, and every hour of the days of labour, those lessons
which had sunk so deep into" their hearts therein, on the
preceding day of rest and worship. Not that the owner of
the house in question could be supposed to need such ad-
monition,—for he—the proprietor of the doorstep upon
which poor Jenny sat and wept—was the clergymen. Op-
portunely, or otherwise, it happened that at this critical
time the reverend gentleman, who had been summoned
half an hour before to attend the bedside of a dying man,
jo
ined
him home, accompanied by a friend who had
him on the way.
" What—what—what is this ?" exclaimed the clergy-
ian, pointing with his gold-headed cane to the weeping
iild crying on my doorstep. Really, how in-
servants are ! The old cry. I dare say. Eh,
Vant, hunger—that's it, eh ?"
" I shouldn't wonder," replied the reverend gentleman's
companion, with a shrug.

" borne—come—speak out, child," cried the pastor.
" Didn't you hear me ask what was the matter ? Do you
know who I am, eh? I am a clergyman and a magistrate!
Do you hear that ? I allow no beggar in Rookfield. I
send them all to prison. What, you an't frightened—
an't you ?"

Ce-rtainiv Jane Foster, although she had risen hastily
and was wiping her eyes, was not in the least alarmed.
She curtseyed to the gentlemen, and was in the act of

moving away.
" Stop—stop—not so fast. I asked you what was the
matter? She does look faint,—does she not, Fisher ?"
said the clergyman.
" 1-e-s, 1 think she does, a lit—tle," replied Fisher.

And if she did, there was' nothing extraordinary in the
circumstance, for she had walked a long distance, and had
not broken her fast since the previous day, and then she
had dined off pltatoes.
" I feel confident that this is a case of imposition,"
whispered the clergyman to his companion, with a singu-
lar inattention to his foregone remark; " I'll unmask it.
Now, my little maid," he added aloud, " what is your
name, and where do you come from ?"
The girl replied to each of his queries.
" And what—l ask you for the third time—what do you
on my door-step ?"
" As if she were following the Hindoo method of sitting
in dharna," said Fisher, who had been a traveller.
" I—l didn't mean any harm, sir," replied Jane,
bursting afresh into tears. " I have lost five shillings;
my grandmother sent me to pawn a ring, and I have lost
the money."

The clergyman looked his friend solemnly in the face.
" To pawn, to pawn!" he exclaimed, giving to each sylla-
ble its due impressive enancation. The vice of the lower
classes is abominable—to pawn !"
The shock was too immense for the reverend gentleman
to contend against. He waved his hand, saying, " There,
get away, child, get away ;" and walked into the house,
followed by his friend.
Jane hurriedly left that neighbourhood. No good, she

thought, could come from such a vicinity. But what was
she to do ? She must beg now, and haply she might meet
with those who imputed to the lower orders something
which was not " vice." It was with a heavy heart that,
turning out of the street in which the clergyman lived,
she stood where the ladies passed home from the market,
and looked in their faces with eager, hungry eyes. It be..
gan to snow just at this time. Timid and ashamed, she
watched an opportunity to make her first appeal. But every
one was in such baste to get borne, now that snow was

ing-attitude, and pale, attenuated

• .
face were scarcer noticed, and gained only a cold, un-
sympathising stare. Ali; it was sad for the poor girl to
see so many fellow-Christians, not one of whom was dis-
posed to lend to their Maker an unstateable fraction of the
wealth He had bestowed upon them. It is true that she
had not yet petitioned with her tongue,—but her eyes, her

cheeks, her pinched limbs and bare attire, what eloquent
tongues they had How impressive their oratory ! But
it was a week day, and Charity was a theme for Suodays.

Once in

seven days, the rich folks of Rookfield conde-
scended to call the poor their brethren.
Faster fell the snow. The girl's bonnet and shawl were
white as the roofs of the houses. She shivered and her
teeth chattered. The marrow of ber bones was chilled
stip hnd

...ignet. reply, dr recognised her existence by so much as
a shake of the head, or other mute rejection of her suit.

Only a penny,—'tis for my grandmother; have lost
shillings, and we have nothing to eat at home."
o were thus entreated

walked fast,

snow, and

n the vc

hose w

We that piveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord. In-
asmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these my
brethren, ye did it not to me. Holy words, accredited by
those who turned a deaf ear to the petition of the shiver-
ing beggar girl.

CJJ
Upwards of two hours did Jane stand, exposed to the
thickly-falling snow, and suffering the severest privation
from the combined effects of cold and hunger. And dur-
ing all that time she got angry and even abusive words,
breats of Bridewell, but not one

deprecating looKs,
halfpenny, not one

A:nd now the day was so far advanced that the night
would soon close in. It still snowed fast—fast. The
cold was extreme. As she hurried along the pavement,
she caught frequent sights of rousing fires in grates, and
happy people warming themselves thereby. The cold was
in her limbs, and in her heart. She must hasten' home,
lest her poor grandmother should die with fright because
of her long absence. Yet once more she would beg—yet
once more, for her aged relation's sake, she would beg...

A sailor, rather an uncommon personage in Rookfield,
approached. She raised her hands in supplication, her
pale face, streaming with tears, and her supplicating atti-
tude, attracted the worthy tar's attention. She told her
story, and the humane seaman drew from his pocket a
leathern purse, and placed five shillings in her hand, say-
ing that he gave it her for the sake of hii mother, who was
also an old woman, and whom he was hurrying to meet,
after a long—long absence—if she were still alive—if she
were still alive. lie should have a child too, he said, but
he thought she was dead,—he didn't know.

Oh, joy—oh, light-hearted joy! Heaping uncounted
blessings upon the head of the generous son of Neptune,
our happy Jane set her face homeward in good earnest.
She was on the moor now ; but soaked to the skin by
the penetrating snow, and chilled almost beyond the
power of her slight, enfeebled ft ame to bear. At every
step she took, her strength grew less and less. The snow
fell now so fast and thick, that objects at a trifling distance
were obscured, and her little feet sank deeper every in-
stant.

Oh—to die upon that lonely moor—bow horrible ! To
sit frantically down, and—as she remembered to have

snow wildly round her, and build herself a frightful
tomb therewith ! Were such to be her end, through the
long hours of that bitter winter's night. how would her
old grandmother rave in mad despair, and call vainly
upon heaven to aid her darling child !
Thicker and faster—thicker and faster yet. No sky,
no horizon, no object on which to rest the eye, but all one
wACtP of .nn._ th.t made the eve-balls ache to look upon.

Faster and faster yet, and feebler and ref
steps. A dizziness came over her—a strange sensation
spread around her heart. She could not hold out much
longer. She felt herself sinking—Yet one more struggle
for her young life.

bier grew her

A chirp, aZ of a little bird, sounded in her ear.

It was

close beside her—a robin—a winter robin.
The moor was, in summer, particularly barren, even
There was oot a tree for a bird to perch
ew shrubs, and they were now bidde❑ by

Chi rp,—chirp.
It was only a simple robin.—but God alone knows bow
greatly its presence cheered our little maiden. battling
against the storm on that shelterless and dreary moor.
What trifling circumstances infuseinew life into the de-

spondinfr, breast ! The Scotch warrior gleaned new vigour
from watching the efforts of a spider. Mungo Park,
when resigned to die in the African desert, beheld a tiny
weed lifting its obscure head to the heaven that encloseth
all the world, and felt that God, who planted that humble
vegetation there, and did ILA withdraw from it his sus-
tain'ng hand, but sent the breeze to fan it, and the rain to
water it,—would succour the child of his own likeness

ing thought, there grew such
energy, that his limbs received new strength thereby, and
he prosecuted his path_ anew, and arrived safely at the
. .

t conso

—this humble robin, dearly beloved by tale and fable,
and home'y rhyme—of the music of its speech, of its
chirp, chirp, chirp—were begotten such resolution and
courage in the heart of the sinking child, that there was
no longer any question of her drooping and dying; but
a certainty that she should behold her grandmother again,
and live, please God, to bless him in after years for pre-
serving her amidst the dangers of that afternoon.

The robin, too, became her guide. Not that she could
have missed her way, but the trodden path being hidden
by the snow, one direction, so that she did not wander
farfrnm the conjectured track, was as go d as another.
And the robin went right onward, hopping now,—now
flying, and ever strengthening her resolution. And so she
found herself, ere long, at the door of her grandmother's
cottage, and then she saw the robin no more.
She related the story to her grandmother while warm-
ing herself at the fire which blazed on the hearth. And
oh, what ferver.t thanksgivings ascended that night from
that lowly roof to the throne of Glory !
The next morning there came a knock at the cottage
door, and when Jane opened it, who should present him.
self but the sailor who had given her five shillings on the
previous afternoon. He started with surprise at seeing
Jane, and enquired whether Dame Foster lived there.
When Jane replied that she did, the seaman gave a cry of
joy._

—"
That's Richard's voice," exclaimed the old woman
from within. " I know it is. God be praised. He has
sent me back my son•"

" My mother, my dear mother," cried the sailor rush-
ing into the cottage.
We pass the scene which followed.
'• And so this is my Jane,—roy own child," said the
seaman, presently, taking her in his lap, and kissing her
for full five minutes without drawing breath.

" Yes, that iF; poor dead Mary's child," said the grand-
mother. "It was her mother's wedding-ring that she
pawned yesterday."

The old woman, the neighbours, Jane herself, all assert
that it was no robin; but an ang-1 from the skies, that
led her over the moor that afternoon. Who shall dare
laugh at their belief? For are not the resolves which,
nobiv taken, enable us to battle successfully with the
storms of life, and conduct us safely Home—angels, and
guardian angels, too? So, here's God speed the Winter
Robin on repeated missions !

NEW Yon.x BOARDING-HOUSES.—I went to several
boarding-houses before finally making a selection. In
answer to inquiries for the terms, they were generally
reasonable enough : the highest two dollars a day, about
Is. 61. sterling ; and the lowest, one dollar. At these last
I inquired their hours. Breakfast at six o'clock, and
half-past : hot beef-steaks, much and milk, hommaney,
rice and molasses, mackerel, salmon, shad, hot cakes, and
rolls of every description ; tea and coffee. Dinner at
t..elve o'clock, and supper at six. The bill of fare on
reading, looks abundant enough; but really, on inspec-
tion, this well-covered table offers to an Englishman very
little that is even eatable, much less palatable. Though
every one must admire the early hours and temperance of
the Americans, yet only imagine a Londoner, and an old
hand, not used to any thing much worse than the shady
side of Pall-mall, assembling at six o'clock at the noise of
a great bell—washed and shaved, mind, by six o'clock—
to look at an immense rump-steak at the head of the
table swimming in fat, not half cooked ; then, lower
down, a dish of enormous salt mackerel, one of which
would make two of our English markerel ; then some Ha-
lifax salmon, just as taken from the barrel, and as salt as
brine; then two or three small dishes, some white mush,
a food for pigs, and others with hommaney, only differing
from muQh.in that this last is while maize, ground and
boiled in water, whilst mush is yellow corn, ground and
boiled. As this sort of food is not known in Endand,
thank God, except in the penitentiaries, I have been ra-
ther particular in describing it. No caution is required
to my countrymen to avoid it, because the very sight of
it will make them sick. The remainder of the table was
filled up with some warmed-up tough old hen, called
chicken fixings ; all washed down with the most execra-
ble coffee in the whole world. I used to think that Eng-
land might defy all creation for bad coffee : but the Ame-
ricans beat us hollow.—Rambles in the United States and
Canada.

THE STAGE NEGRO.—This personation has become a
vulgar dancirg brute, with a banjo in his hand, and
without a bit of sentiment at his heart; a wretch con-
stantly jumping about, wheeling about, and turning about,
but wholly devoid of that solemn admiration for the Bri-
tish constitution, and for the liberating influence of the
sends of Margate, or the shingles of Dover, which we
once used to hear with a feeling of pride at being natives
of a land that admitted of so much puffing on the part of
our dramatists. The stage negro of the present day can
only indulge in frivolous allusions to Miss Lucy Long,
Coal Black Rose, and other light characters, or call upon
some imaginary individual of the name of Josey, to Jim
along—a process that we are at a loss to form a conception
of. Thus much for the moral attributes of the stage
negro, whose physical peculiarities remain, for the most
part, unchanged ; and to those who can, therefore, turn
our attention without any feeling of disappointment at
the alteration which has occurred in the intellectual cha-
racter. The stage negro still exhibits that remarkable
peculiarity of the skin, which is shown by the dark colour,
generally finishing abruptly at the wrist, the hand being
nerfectly the same as that of one of the white population.
The variety of hues is also very remarkable ; for, while
the arm is the colour of a black worsted stocking, the
face is somewhat less opaque, and, indeed, it would ap-
pear that nature dealt for her blacking with two different
manufacturers, trying Warren for the limbs, and using
Day and Martin fo'r the features of the stage negro.-
-Cruikshank'B Table-Bonk•

LEGEND OF CAIRN-THIERNA,,

(From the Dublin University Magazine.)

It was the evening of a brilliant day in the autumn of
1592. The sun had sunk behind the purple range
of Nagle's Mountains, and his parting rays yet lin-
gered, sending a stream of light along the Awbeg, that,
reflected by the mirror-like waters, shed effulgent through
the valley, and gilded the tall keep and battlements of
the stately Castlt town-Roche. The air was heavy with
the heat of the day ; but, at intervals, the sighing of
the evening breeze awoke the slumber of the wide old
woods stretched to the water's side. It was a 'sweet
and tranquil hour, when the mind, undisturbed by
external objects, looks into itself, and, like a glassy lake,
uncalled by the wind, gives back the images, with fide-
lity, by which it is surrounded. In a tastefully-erected
Gothic summer-house, within view of the graceful river,
since celebrated in Spencer's song, sate Lord Roche and
his lady. They listened to the sounds of glee and youth-
ful merriment which rung from the turrets ; yet, as the
laughter came upon their ears, a cl,,ud of anxiety seemed
to darken the brow of the nobleman, and he hurriedly
brushed away the tear that had fallen on his cheek.
" My dearest Lord," said the lady, " wherefore this de-
pression of heart ? All nature smiles around us. Be-
hold those lovely flowers vieing with the stars in bright
ness. See the sparkling river hastenin
water