The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1848-01-15
Farm I'm the West.

OILY night before last pale, care-wom
young man sat down upon one OF the ben
ches in Lsyiayette Square. His clothes
were by no means new-his beaver had
gone to seed, and his shoes, like those of
Julian 81. Pierre, were "minus half their
soles. As the breeze swept through he
trees in the square, a shudder ran through
the heart Of the lonely man. He saw the
yellow leaves drop from their boughs, and
after being twiTled and twirled around and
around by the tiny current of air, would
al last be wbirled away, Heaven only
knows whittier. He thought these leaves
were like his hopes, and that he was like the
trees tina, parted with them. In the green
sPring-time Of life, his heart had put forth its
blossoms and its branches, and many bird
Of love TITLED its sweet song amidst the
dark green foliage Of his mind. But now
all seemed gone, and thought by thought,
and memory by memory, seemed dropping
from the bOugh Of life. He heard the au-
tumn wind signing through his bosom, and
clasping his hands over his eyes, he shut out
the CLEANS Of the pale stars, and wept to
himself. He thought OF his youth, the gol-
den visions that his mind had woven then,
and how, like the diamond frost-work that
is melted by the sun, they had all melted
into "thin air" He thought of the strug-
giles that he had gone hrough-the perils
that he had passed-how from morn till
morn he had lsbored, not for himself, but
for Others, and, more than all, how his proud
heart had been obliged to bow to the
"Spurns that patient merit
From the unworthy takes"
Ii was deep and bitter thought that then
ran through has heart, bul he pressed his
hand upon bis breast and said" 1t is well. ;"
Gathering his scsnty garments about rim,
be wenoed his way TO bis home, and after a
long and weary walk, at last reached his
humble place Of abode. His wife ran out
to meet him, and his children clasped him,
one around the knees, while the other flung
her little thin white arms around his neck.
He thought Of the monow-he had not a
dollar TO give them, and though his heart
was dropping tears Of blood, still his lips
wore a smile, and he cheered his family
with words Of hope and love- Kissing his
children. be babe them good night, and
slept and dreamed those cold grey dreams
allotted to the children Of poverty. The
next morning, after he had eaten his
humble breakfast, he came down town, to
earn the pittsnce Of those who are doomed
70 labor. His heart hung in his bosom like
a load Of lead, and he bit his lips in order
, 10 suppress his agony. His rent was due,
and every larthing that he had on earth was
gone. He thought Of his pale-faced wife
and little children, and imagined that he
saw them shiveFing in the cold air, houseless
and deienceless. His face was bent towards
the ground, and walking along with heart
bnm foil Of agony, he suddenly saw a little
piece Of paper that looked like bank note.
lying on the pavement. He grasped il like
mlser-but alas It was only a ticket in
the Havana lottery He took it down town.
however, and in cabaret in the Third Mu-
nicipality, asked what No. 1861 had
drawn.
"Hsve you that number!" asked the bar.
keeper, with surprise.
Yes-here it is" was the answer.
81 That ticket sir, has drawn $4,000, and
you have only to go to the firm of--io
get your money"
VINO could tell the thoughts that rushed
like rainbow meteors through the poor