The Whig standard. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1843-1844, 1844-01-12
NUMBER IS

glanceS cast at nam, but no one OuereQ MIN
shelter. Now and then the children paused
an instant as he passed down the street; but
that was all. His steps grew more feeble, and
his heart sunk within him. i q 4 Is A n
He looked around in search Of some on to ap-
ply to; but the faces he saw were forbidding,
and he moved on. At length he stood before
shady cottage of the better sort, at the door OF
which sat a boy, breathless from beating his hoop
around the village, while 9 mild, n,atron!y face
was visible just inside. The aspect OF the cot
tage, and all around It was quiet and soothing,
and the old man felt that there, if anywhere, he
would find compassionate hearts.
/" Mother" said one of the children inside,
sweet little girl of FIVE, !" do you see the poor old
man at the door-he looks tired and hungry.
mother-shant / give him some bread and
milk 81 S,s M
The mother looked, and, for the first time,
saw the veteran. He stood, leaning on his stick,
his hat in his hand, mutely appealing with his
look of WEAKNESS and his thin, unbared gray
hairs, to her sympathy. Her heart was touch
ed, and she advanced to the door, her little
daughter following, clngng to her dress, and
looking up into the veterans face with gaze Of
mingled pity and fear.
sIYour face is sweet and kind, dear madam, !"
said the old man, with tremulous voice, for
his heart was still stirred by the memories OF
other times, s and, though happy and beautiful
now, looks as if it had once seen sorrow. feel
that shall not ask in vain for morseI Of sup
per and leave to sleep in some clubhouse or, Tor
bread only, if you have no humble place for an
old man to lie in. have eaten nothing since
morning, and am worn down with travel. God
will bless you, ma ann, for what you do for me"
| The old mans words had been broken and
earnest, and listened 10 by the woman with
strange interest. With her finger on her cheek.
she stood drinking them in as if life and death
depended on her hearing every syllable. As he
proceeded, her eyes expressed strange wonder
and doubt, hut when he ceased, she advanced
close to him, and laying her hand on his shout g
der, while she peered into his face as 1t she
would read every elipeaments there, she said
:" Is your name Morton-John Morton I"
The old man started and looked at her eagerly,
and with wild establishment t3. N
gsa" 1t is-it is" she said, !" father don't you
know your daughter? 2" and she clasped her arms
around his neck and sobbed hysterically, now
looking eagerly up into his face. and now again
convusively embracing him. The father was
not less affected, and wept aloud. m
g Oh my child !" was all he could say.
His grand children stood around. but half conn
pretending the scene, yet joining their tears
with their mothers and his. v; +, .
When all were more composed, each told the
history of their lives during the years they had
been separated. The father narrated his mis-
fortunes, and the death Of all his family, and at
this the daughter wept afresh. Hers was a
| brighter story. She and her husband had pros
pered, and had often written to her parent, but
the letters miscarried, and thinking him still un-
| forgiving, she had ceased at length TO write.
/ That night was the first time for months, that
the veteran did not sleep among strangers.