American telegraph. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1851-1851, 1851-06-17
THE ORPHAN BOY.
A UCHIN STORY.

hammock and soon fell asleep. But my slum-
bers were disturbed by wild dreams, which,
lik visions Of a fever, agitated and unnerved
me. The last strife, the hardships Of my early
life, and thousand other things mingled
together as figures in phantasmagoria. Sud
denly hand was laid on my shoulder, and
starting up beheld the surgeons mate
'Little Dick, sir, is dying" said he.
At once sprung from my hammock-little
Dick was a sort Of protege Of mine. He was
pale, delicate child, said to be an orphan, and
or gentle nature; and from the first hour /
joined the schooner my heart yearned towards
him; for |, too, had once been friendless 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 go apart by himself 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 parent.
took strong interest in him. and had light
ened his task as much as possible During the
late fight had owed my life to him, for he
rushed just as a sabre stroke was levelled at
me; and by interposing his feeble cutass he
diverted a deadly blow. In the hurry and con-
fusion since, had quite forgotten to inquire
whether he was hurt, though at tile time l had
inwardly resolved to exert all my influence to
procure him a midshipman's warrant in requital
for his service. twas with pang of reproach-
full agony, therefore, leapt to my feet
"My God'' l exclaimed "you don't mean
it? He is not dying?''
81 fear, sir,' said the surgeon, shaking his
head sadly that he cannot live till morning"
Ind hau 1,,s, H., I
claimed with remorse. "Lead me to him."
" He is delirious but Mt intervals of lunacy
he asks for you, sir )" and as the man spoke,
we stood beside the bed of the boy.
The sufferer did not lay in his hammock, as
| it was hung in the very midst Of the crew, and
the close air around it was so sitting that he
had been carried under the open hatchway, and
laid there in little open space of about four
feet square. From the sound of the ripples l
judged the vessel was in motion, while the
clear calm blue sky, seen through the opening
overhead, and dotted with myriads of stars, be-
tokened the fog had broken away. How calm
had it smiled down on the wan face of the dy-
ing boy. Occasionally a light current of wind
oh! ! how delieiously cool in that pent-up hole
eddied down the hatchway, and lifted the dark,
chestnut locks Of the sufferer, as, with his head
reposing on the lap Of an old veteran, he Law in
an unquiet slumber. His shirt-collar was un-
buttoned, and his childish bosom, white as that
of girl, was opened and exposed. He breathet
quick and heavily. The wound of which he
was dying was intensely painful, but within
the last half-hour had somewhat lulled though
even now his thin fingers tightly grasped the
bed-clothes, as if he suffered the greatest agony.
battled-stained and gray haired seaman
stood beside him, holding dull lantern in his
hand, and gazed sorrowfully down upon the suf-
ferer. The surgeon knelt with his finger on
the boys pulse. As / approached they all
looked up-the veteran who held him shook his
head, and would have spoken, but the tears
gathered too chokingly in his eyes
The surgeon said
"He is going fast-poor little fellow. Do
you see this?" And as he spoke, he lifted up
rich golden locket which laid on the boys
breast. "He has seen better days"
could not answer, for my heart was full
Here was the being to whom q few hours before
l owed my lfe-a poor, slight, unprotected
child-lying before me with death already writ
ten upon his brow-and yet had never sought
him out after the conflict. How bitterly my
heart reproached me at that hour. Theynoticed
my agitation, and his old friend, the seaman
who held his head, said sadly
"Poor little Dick! you'll never see the shore
you have wished for so long But there'll be
more than one when your logs out''-he spoke
with emotion-"t to mourn for you"
Suddenly the little fellow opened his eyes.
and looked vacantly around.
HAS he come yet" he asked in a low voice
"Why don't he come =?
] am here" said l, taking the little fellows
hand. "Don't you know me, Dick?"
lie smiled family in my face. He then said
"You have been kind to me, sir-kinder to
me than most people are to poor orphan boy.
I I have No IN show INV ,,,Io.. -,
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, Pm dying, amt | 2" said the little
fellow, for my sight grows dim. God bless
you, Mr.. Worth"
"Can I do nothing for you, Dick ?" said I.
" You saved my life. would coin my blood to
save yours"
II have nothing to ask--I don't want to live
only if it is possible, let me be buried by my
mother-you'll find the name Of the place and
all about it in my trunk
|. ." Anything, everything, my poor lad,'' an
swered chokingly.
The little fellow smiled faintly--it was an
angels smile--but he did not answer. His eyes
were fixed on the stars Pickering in that patch
Of the blue sky overhead. His mind wandered.
ats long, long way up there, but there
are bright angels among them. Mother used to
say we should meet there. How near they come,
and sec sweet faces smiling on me from among
them. Hark is that music 20 and lifting his
finger he seemed listening for a moment. He
fell back, and the old veteran burst into tears
the child was dead. Did he indeed hear angel 8
voices? God grant it,
The wife of Joseph D. Curry, of Versailles,
Indiana, died very suddenly, not long since, and
from some circumstance attending her disease,
it was suspected that she had been poisoned by
her husband. Upon an examination being made,
quantity of poison was found in her stomach,
and there is no doubt but that the dose was