Litchfield enquirer., 1842-01-20
THE MERCHANT AND HIS .. DAUGHTER.
A TALE FROM REAL LIFE.

AH0 SuceISS StrIkinS chliI tO the heart O the pedestrian, as with difficulty he wend. ed his way through the snow already fallen Not star was to be seen, and all seemed dark and gloomy, save where ihe feeble light from the street lamps fell on the i'm. mediatelv surrounding objects. The grea thoro"ghfares of the metropolis, which some hours before had been ihrongcd wi!I people, were now almost wholly deserted l had been called in to visit patient, and was now returning home, when, wrapping my cloak more closely around me, quick ened my pace-aDxious to escape, in part, at least, the fury ofthe storm. proceed ed along the great thoronghtarc, and was on the point of turning the corner of an- other street, when my attention was arrest ed by the sobbing of child. I stopped, and turning ronnd, beheld a small boy, ap, parently about eight years of age, with scarce rags enough to cover his almost fro- zen body. He was shiverinc with cold, and, to my inquiry of where he lived, could scarcely answer.
 And what are you doing here at this late hour?'
 l was trying to beg of the gentlemen a few cents, to buy some food for my poor sick mother. Oh sir, do please give me few cents, dot! -..... I was struck with the sorrowful tone of tho child, which convinced me he was no impostsr, and sheltering him from the storm as we'll as could, with part of my cloak, asked
 Is your mother very sick?'
 Oh, yes, sir-she is very sick, and has nothing at all to eat, nor no money to buy any thing with.' j..
 : No money! Why, how do you get the medicine the doctor orders?'
 Mother has no doctor, sir. My sister Mary says he would not come, because he was afraid mother would never be able to pay him.
 No doctor, neither! Come, my lad,' said l, still shelrering him from the storm with my cloak 'come, show me where your mother lives, and will sec that she has something to eat, and doctor too.'
 We started, and l followed him up one street, and down another, until we came to d small. narrow alley, lighted with but a single lamp. Picking our way with great difficulty, through the mud and snow that had accumulated, we at last stopped before an old dlapidated building, which had seemingly wi'hstood the test of years, but which now tottered beneath the heavy gusts that, ever and anon, swept whis,ling tn uush liIe uaTK ana narrow street. My little guide opened the door, and we enter ed, groping our way through the dark, until we came to an old, broken pair of stairs that c,eakcd and shook beneath our steps as we aseended. Having reached the lalrl- ing, from which the door opened into the ,her lay, 1 stopped, whilst sent forward to acquaiM his mother aud sister of my presence. Lifting the latch softly, he r,- tered, leaving the door open behind him. stepped back pace or two, and stood for moment to contemplate the interior of the apartment: and oh! what sight, was presented to my view It was sight that would have melted heart of stone.
 On a bed, in one conner of the room, with but single blanket as a covering. lay a sick woman |: whilst near her on an only chair, and indeed with the exception of an old shackling bench, the only seat that was visible in the apartment-sat a girl about ten or eleven years of age, who had been 
 hand. The remnant of an old carpet was upon the floor: few cooking utensils hung against the wall and stool, an old broken mirror, and kind of wooden chest OF trunk, completed the furniture of the apartment. l lad, in the course of my professional career, visited many scenes of distress-many abodes of misery and want; but then they are almost always coupled with filthiness and obvious Dcglect.-Here it was diferent-cleanliness and order pre- vailing throughout the room, indeed to a much greater extent than could have been expected in so old fabric, where the snow and rain drifted in at every gust of wind. chilling the room to such an extent, that the few dying embers in the chimney could be scarcely felt.
 The boy stepped out, and requested me to enter.
 'This is the kind gentleman, mother, said he, as we approached the bed. The woman whispered something which was drowned by gust of wind that shook the house to it's foundation. and drove the snow and sleet through cracks and crevices that were visible on every side. IL was evident, from the expression of her coun- tenance, that it was thanks she was whis. pering. for a gleam of blended melancholy and joy stole across her face, and faini smile played about her mouth, which was aspre,,y one as ever had seen. Indeed. from her appearance, she had been when in heal,h extremely beautiful. Her eyes were Slack, and eycn in sickness retaiRed brilliancy ihas is seldom seen, her hair