The Democratic Whig. [volume] (Columbus, Miss.) 1842-1843, 1843-09-01

broad brim around his neck, be had 4 plum
but saIlow, sickly face over which = sn1il
never played. told him had given Il =
| away. He did not believe me. and docOin,
my footsteps with an Importantly I had new
er witnessed, plead in low, pEaintiva tone
tor q single hgrani.' He ANNOYED lne !
much that 1 finally turned upon him with m,
cane and told him would fog him if he al.
not leave me. This only increased his dis
lance from me with nut checking his imDortu
NIFTY. The carriage not being quite ready;
tnougnt 4 would walk on. The little ecape
grace followed me.and whenf again turned anc
told HIM had no grant. hesaid he would o
pedlars that had pitched Their. tents like Arabs
on the plain, and were trading with the peoDle
from the mountain who thus came down once
a week to exchange their commodities for
Others L dared not trust The fellow, though
from What have since SEN am convinced
ne would have brought me back the money.
walked on, with the naked, shiverin0 child
behind inc, till came to the outer wall of the
lty, where few stones were still left to tel,
It's course, and sat down to wait for rhe car
rage. The little fellow came on, and STONED
as stopped. l told him was afraid he was a
little rascal and told me falsehoods. He said
no-"I have no father or mother. They are
both dead-they died of the Malaria, and have
not hing to eat" Tired of standing, he found
stone that fairly faced me, and sitting dowE
upon 1t, deliberately crossed his bare legs.
folded his arms, as if he had no intention what
ever OF leaving me. and 5eggeI on. THIS was
regular set-to, and | looked on him with ner.
feet establishment, At length the carriage
drove up, and asked my friend for some con.
per. He had none. "Wen," said /, "rive
him cayhne." He tossed it TO him, but he
never smiled, though he siezed it like hungry
man food. He even forgot 10 thank me till I
asked him If he was not thankful, and he said
"yes" IN the same solemn, inmoveabIe coun.
tenance.
was once on anexcursion with some friends
who were very anxious to impress on some
dozen beggars or more who surrounded us at
the hotel, good moral lesson. Among the
ragged group was little girl who never asked
for aims, but stood busily bIaiding straw. To
this girl my friends gave paul, but nothing to
the others, and requested me to tell them this
was because she was Industrious. / die so,
and read them quite lecture on the crime of
ldleness. They were astonshed, and rose and
told 1t TO their fellows, and one after another
came and looked on us in perfect amazement.
My friends looked quite dignified at the whole
some truth they had inculcated by the very
ludlcious distribution of cir charities. In the
meantime l had noticed the disappearance of
several OF the company, who now returned, one
with stocking, which she was knitting most
Lanothel with bit of braided
straw all expecting Of course. reward for their
IN Justly. The lesson had taken effect quicker |
than my friends expected and they found it !
rather ffcult to explain why they should not |
give as literally to the latter as to the first.
laughed heartily over the experiment, and
turned away convinced that nancy was not
GATED TO 0eggaF. And vet glIets ii N Il sact
IN which these miserable creatures deserve /
ear rather than smile. False and deeestini |
Is most Of them are they are not wholly 10 |
blame. Their condition has made them what |
hey are, and others have made their condition !
ind keep it so. Robbed by faithless and sell |
ish government. they are reduced to poverty |
md then to beggary.' The sbamelessness with |
which they beg, shows how deep and almost |
hopeless is degradation. Tho language |
which they use is often thrilling, and if spoken |
n good plain English. never could resist. To |
ave ragged little girl come up to you and |
ay in plaintive accents, 81 am miserable, / am |
lying for the want of bread; oh, for the love of
iod, give me one Pe,lny," would unman you. |
But this is all said in Italian, and said so often
kat you cease to notice it. There is no doubt |
hat verr many of them suffer deeply. In |
ines OF. pestience they furnish food for il. In |
severe winter they are without fire and cloth |
ng. They almost universally carry sad and |
countenances as If life had for them !
70 promise.
Wandering among the ruined temples and
rider the shadow of the galleries of art, they |
,eep up and highten the strong contrast that
meet you at every turn in this strange country. /
ike the kings, they are to have their Aentran-
les and exits" and 60 to- swell the sum of
human life and human wo. They are living |
monuments of the working of the
resent system of society, utterrng trumpet
ongued 10 man his folly and his wickedness.
But, proud and selfish, those who have the
,ower will grasp the wealth. and the weak
tarve and die. Thus it has ever been, and
hus il will be- till society is grounded in differ
mt principles. Bot The moan OF the suffer-
r and the voice of the beggar. like the thun-
Ter of the battle, have become accustomed
ounds, and whether man will ever change the
jystem on which it all rests or not, God only
Knows. The ages move on, working out some
esult, and time viii tell.