The mountain sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1844-1853, 1850-12-12
z I L a II Z O U S
INTELLECT IN RAGS.
STORY FOR OLD AND YoUxo.

Two proud children were tripping along
;he streets of Boston, one sunshiney day,
on their way TO school, chatting as they
went, and apparently enjoying themselves
right merrlly.
late rain had given coating Of mud
TO the red brick sidewalks, so the children
,rod dantily; the older one, slight and
delicately formed girl, with a merry dark
eye, and full rich rnglels, carefully lifting
her soft shining garment, that they might
not be soiled, by contact with the wet
" earth.
Rnd now, their way led through dark
damp alley, where The sunbeams grew
sickiy, and paled into dimness, as they
touched the heavy and tainted atmosphere
though, perchance, long times between,
they melted into shadows upon the golden
hair of some poverty clad infant, for many
such sat in the broken doorways of that
oomfortless city lane.
The boy and girl moved slowly onward,
their white brows bent downward their
bright eyes searching for the hidden pave
stones; yet ever and anon some quick laugh
a. the ludicrous figures that fitted across
their path, would throne their smooth
cheeks with diTnples.
'Don'tyou hate such dirty places, Julia?'
Baid the boy, as 4 few drops, not of crystal,
stained the glossiness Of his rich attire;
don't YOU wish sch ool was at the other end
of the lane!'
It's perfectly HORRIBLE answered the
beautiful young creature, with 4 light
lOugh;-'dear do look at those creatures;
they can have no sensiblity, no refnement;
how dirty, how contemplate they are
well, thank goodness, that 1cs were born
rich
Stop! julie, hush! yonder is something
- avo;,e go laughter, l warrant YOU.
Ha! ha! a boy larger than my self and he
appears 10 be picking out letters on that
scrap of paper-bah!'
Stand sill, Arthur, do, and let's hear
him; we can wait moment
il few PAGES before them sat a boy Of
some thirteen years, hatless, shoeess, and
with very scant frock and trowsers, the
latter mass Of patches. His halr tang
led and thick, hung over his downcast eyes
and his hands, stained and rough with la.
Tor, grasped little piece of newspaper,
which he had evidently picked up out of
The mud. So absorbed was he in his
task that he Id not notice the fair and high
bred young strangers, who stood regard
ing him with thoughless but subdued
Rirth.
Hark! the boy, leaning his brown face
on his clenched hands murmurs uncon-
sciously aloud-'b-l-e mo, not that;
yes; no'-a deep drawn sigh, then again
-t'b-l-a-n -n'-a long pause-'oh dear,-l
have forgotten; | shall never, never read
like Barney.
As the poor child exclaimed thus, he
lifted his eyes sorrowfully, from the tatter-
ed bit of printing; his gaze fell upon the
listeners whose beautiful lips were curled
with scornlul smiles. A flush of cImson
started TO his swarjhy cheeks, mounting
10 the top of his forehead, as he threw of
the mass Of tangled curls, and his bold
black eyes fell before their familiar stare.
I've gotta brother only five years old at
home, who can read better thanthat. i
big boy like you ought al least to know
your letters. Why don't you go 10 schooI!'
TO school, echoed Julia, sneeringly,
do you suppose he could 60 into any de-
cent SCHOOL, his name ought 10 be patch
work; ha! ha! poor thing she continued,
with mock pity, 'our stable boy dresses
better than that
The lad, at her tone of commisseration,
sprang TO his feet, and bent upon the
brother and sister. such glance of def
ance, indignation and scorn, that they in
stinctiveiy hurried onward; though the
girl turned once more mockimgly round,
and gave utterance to q light baniering
laugh.
Still the poor lad dstood-wounded-t
the hearts core-still he gazed after them,
his fud lips quivering with his mental an
guish, his black eyes through the misty
drops that hung trembling on his lids,
fashng fire, as though they would scathe
anc blast the selfish pride of those thought
less chlldreni then turning, he hurried up
three broken steps into dim entry, flew |
along a dark passage, and entering cheer>
less room, flung himself upon the uneven /
toor, and wept burning tears of grief and |
shame.
The parlors of a stately mansion in |
Beacon street, Boston, were brilliantly il !
Eliminated. The owner of the princely |
tenement had issued cards for fashiona-
bic solree. the hour had arrived, and the |
guests were assembling.
h. ~ 1t.