Staunton spectator, and general advertiser. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 183?-1849, 1847-06-17
NJ | SC E i l. A N Y.
r Il e O r p III a N BOY.
"Hc faded, yet SO calm and meek,

Inc ouSue vi TIE ii5ht was over The prisoners
had been secured, the decks washed down, the
watch piped, and the schooner had once more re-
lapsed into midnight and quiet repose | sought
my hammock and soon fell asleep. But my Stun
bers were disturbed by wild dreams, which. like
the visions of fever, agitated and unnerved
me; the late strife, the hardships of my early life
and thousand other things mingled together as
figures In a phantasmagoria. Suddenly hand
was laid on my shoulder, and starting up beheld
the surgeons mate.
'.llttle Dick, sir, is dying" he said.
AT once ! sprang from my hammock. Little
DICK was sort of prolege Of mine He was a
pale, delicate child, said to be an orphan, and used
to gentle nurture; and from the first hour joined
the schooner, my heart yearned towards him, for |
too had once been riendless and alone in the world
He had often talked TO me in confidence of his
mother, whose memory he regarded with holy
reverence, while to the other boys of the ship he
had little to say for they were rude and coarse,
he delicate and sensitive. Often when they jeered
him for his melancholy, he would 90 apart by him
self and weep. He never complained of his lot.
though his companions imposed on him continually.
Poor lad his heart was in the grave with his lost
parents.
took strange interest in him. and had light
ened his task as much rs possible. During the
late fight had owed my life to him. for he rush
ed in just as sabre stroke levelled at me; and
by interposing his feeble cutass had averled the
deadly blow. In the hurry and confusion since |
had quite forgotten to inquire if he was hurt, tho
at the time, inwardly resolved TO exert all my lit
tie influence to procure him a midshipman's war
rant in requta for his service. 1t was with q
pang of reproachfu agony, therefore, that leaped
TO my feet
E'My Cod" exclaimed, ''you don't mean it?
He is not dying %
81 fear, sir" said the messenger shaking his
head sadly, ''that he cannot live till morning"
"And have been lying idle here I" eXclaim-
ed with remorse LEAD me to him!"
''He is delirious. but in the intervals of lunacy
he asks for you, sir" and as the man spoke we
stood beside the bed of the diving bow
The sufferer did not lie in his usual hammock,
for il was hung in the very midst Of the crew. and
the close air around it was too Sitting; but he had
been carried under the open hatchway and laid
here in little open space of about four feet SQUARE
From the sound Of the ripples judged the schoon-
er was in notion while the clear calm blue sky
seen through the opening overhead, and dotted with
myrlads of stars, betOkened that the fog had bro
ken away. How calm it smiled down on the wan
face of the dying boy Occasionally light cur
rent Of wind-oh how delicousy cool is that
pent up hold-eddled down the hatchway and lift
ed the dark chesnu locks of the sufferer as, with
his head reposing in the lap of an old veteran, he
lay in an unquet slumber His shirt collar was
unbutoned and his childish bosom, as white as
that of girl, was opened and exposed He
breathed quick and heavily The wound of which
ne was dying had been intensely painful. but with.
in the last half hour had somewhat lued, though
even now his thin fingers tightly grasped the bed
clothes. as if suffering the greatest agony.
A battle stained and gray haired seaman stood
beside him, holding dull lantern in his hand, and
gazing sorrowfuy down upon the sufferer. The
surgeon kneIt with his finger on the boys pulse
As approached they all looked up. The veteran
who held him shook his head. and would have spo
ken, but the tears gathered too chokingly in his
eyes.
The surgeon said
'He is going fast-poor little felow-do YOU
see this ~ As he spoke he lifted up rich gold
locket, which had lain upon the boy breast. ''He
has seen better days"
| could not answer, for my heart was full
here was the being to whom, but few hours be-
fore, had owed my llfe-a poor. slight, unproiect-
ed child-yng before me- with death already
written on his brow-and yet had never known
his danger, and never sought him out after the con-
fiict. How utterly my heart reproacled me in that
hour They noticed my agitation, and his old
friend-tne seaman that held his head--said sadly
"Poor little Dick-you'l never see the shore
you have wished for so long But there'll be more
than one--when your logs ont >" he spoke with
emotion--''to mourn over you"
Suddenly the little fellow opened his eyes, and
looked vacsptly around.
elias he come yet 90 he asked, in low voice.
"Why won't he come 2"
81 am here" said !. taking the little fellows
hand, "don't YOU know me- Dick 2"
He smiled family in my face. He then said
"You have been kind to me, sir--kinder than
most people are to poor orphan boy.--t have no
way 70 show my gratitude--unless you will take
The Bible you will find in my trunk. It's small
offering. know, but it's all have"
burst into tears he resumed:
doctor, am dy ing amt IL" said the little
fellow. "fot my sight grows dim. God bless you.
Mr.. Danforh"