Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, IA [i.e. Ind.]) 1839-1854, 1843-09-30
From the New York Christian Mes
THE UNEXPECTED FRIEND.

TOO sick work. and you cannot, surely, sec me
end your little brother starve. Try and beg a
few shillings, and perhaps by the time that IS
gone, | may be better. Go, Henry, my dear;
Cr,eve TO send you such GRAND, but ii must
be DONE"
The boy, a noble locking little fellow OF about
ten years, started up, and throwing bic arms about
his mothers neck, left the house without a word
lie did no, hear the groan OF anguish that was
uttered by his parent as The door closed behind
him; aud II well that he did not, for his little
heart was ready to break without 1t. 1t was a
by-street in Phadelp ha, and as he walked 10 and
fro the side walk he looked fist at one person
and then at another, they passed him, but no
one seemed to look kindly on him, and the longer
he waited, the faster his courage dwindled away,
and the more difficult II became to beg. The tears
were running fast down his cheeks but nobody
Noticed them, or if they did. nobody seemed TO
care; for although Glenn, Henry looked poor and
miserable, md 1t is common for the poor aud mis-
cradle TO cry!
Every body seemed in hurry, and the poor
boy was quite in despair, when at last he espied
gentleman who seemed TO be very elsurely ia.
king walk lie was dressed in black, wore "A
three cornered hat, and face that was mild
I'D bcnignnnt as an argel's. Somehow, when
IIeury looked at hun, he fcl: oil his fears vanish
ut once, and Instantly approached him. Ills tears
had been flowing so long, thnt his eyes were quite
red and sw oen, and his voice trctnhcd-but that
was with weakness, for he had not eaten any
thing for twenty faur hours. As Henry, with "a
low, falter!ng voice, begged for little charity,
the gentleman stopped, and his kind heart melted
with compassion as he looked into the fair
tenance of The boy, and the deep blush which
spread over his face, and listened 10 the modest,
humble tones which accompanied his petition.
"You do not look like boy tina, has been
cusomed to beg his Bread" said he, kindly lay
ing his hand on tho bows shoulder; "what has
driven you to this stepr'
I,Ja -
to flow afresh, "lndeed was not born in this con
dnon. But the msfortunes of my father, and
the sickness of my mother, have driven me TO
the necessity now F"
"Who is your father?" inquired the gentleman,
still more interested.
"Mv father was n rich merchant of this city;
but he became bonGsman for friend, who soon
after fniled, and he was entirely ruined. lie
could not live after this loss, and in one month
he died of grief, and his death was more dreadful
than any other trouble. My mother, my little
brother and mysOlf. soon sunk INTO tho lowest
depths Of poverty. My mother has, until now,
managed TO support herself and my little brother
by her labor, aud have earned what could by
shoycIiine and other work that could find
to do. But, night before last, mother was taken
very Sick and sho has since become so much
worse ,hlt''-horo the tears poured faster than
ever--'I do fear she will die. | cannot think Of
any way in the world to help her. | have not
had any work TO do for several weeks. have not
had the courage 10 60 to any OF my mothers old
acquan,ances and tell them that she had come to
need charity. ! though, you looked like stran
ger sir and something in your face overcome my
shame and gave me courage TO speak to you. q,
SIR, do pity my poor mother"
Tho tears, and The simple and touching language
OF The poor boy. touched chord in tho breast Of
the stranger that accus toned 10 frequent vi
brations.
Where does your mother live, my boy? p said
he in husky voice, sis il far from here?''
''She lives IN the last house in this street. cir"
replied Henry "You can see it from here, in the
third block and on the left hand side
"IIave you sent for physician?"
mo, SIR said the boy sorrowfuy, shaking
his head. 81 had no money to pay neither for
physician nor for the medicine
Here" said tho stranger, drawing some pieces
of silver from his pocket, here three dollars.
take them and run immediately for physician"
Henry's eyes flashed with gratitude-he re-
ceived the money with a statnmering and almost
iaaudable voice, but with look Of the warmest
gratitude aud vanished.
The benevolent stranger Immediately sought
the dwelling of the sick widow. He entered a
little room, in which he could nothing but q
few implements of female iahor-a miserable Ia
BILE, old bureau. and little bed which stood in
one corner, on which the invalid lay. She up
peared weak, and almost exhausted; and on the
bed at her feet, sa, little boy, crying if his
heart would bresk.
Deeply moved at this sight the stranger drew
near tho bedside of the invalid and fernjng to
be a physician, inquired into tho nature Of her
disease. The symptoms were explained in very
few words. when the widow, with deep sirh
added. 80, sir. nv sickness has a deeper cause.
and one which is beyond the art of the physician
10 cure am a mo,her-a wretched mother
see my children sinking daily deeper in misery
and want, which have no means of relieving
My sickness is of The heart, and death alone can
end my sorrows; but even death is dreadful TO
me, Tor 1t awakens the thought Of the misery into
"h'cn my children would he plunged if" Here
emotion choked her n,terance. and the tears flow.
cd unresttalned down her cheek But the pre-.
tended physician spoke so consoIing TO her. and
manifested so warm a sympathy for her condition