Eastern times. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1846-1857, 1852-12-23
aid Thornton, as he arose and went to the

said Thornton, as he arose and went to the
door.
But Lillian was not at the steps. She
should not be ont by herself, at this time OF
night thought the gentleman, and straining
his eyes as he looked up and down the street,
he thought that he recognized her ienre
as she passed under gas light some distance
ahead.
To 90 back to the hall, snatch his hat from
the table and pursue her, was the work of an
instant.
AS she turned the corner, he fastened his
pace, fearing to lose sight of her. He beheld
her now enter dark, dirty looking court,
lighted by one lamp, with two coal beavers
plodding sullenly along, and drunken man
staggering home over the hard trodden snow
that cruncaed under his feet; The whole pre-
senting as strong contrast as possible to the
street which he had just left. The place look
ed as if the Christmas festival had never been
instituted for its inhabitants, as if the grea,
event which the next day was to commemorate
brought no amelioration, no glad tidings to
them.
The only sign of the happy jubilee was a
group of children standing under the light, ex.
amining with eager, almost envious eyes a
small drum and clumsy pocket-knife, ex.
hibited BY two of their triumphant compan.
ions.
Just as Lillian and her little guide had reach
ed the door, they were joined by Mr.. Thorn
ton, who said,
You are very imprudent Miss Lillian, to &c
out at SO late IN hour; l had to come after
you
'Oh, | didn't think about it Mr.. Thornton
and | suppose | am but there's poor woman
very ill here, and her baby is dead
The boy opened the door, and they entered
room, ,olerable clean to be sure, but with
none of the comforts, and scarcely any of the
necessaries of life. A tallow candle, running
III huge cutters, standing on the rude mantle
shelf, threw dim, worrying kind of ligh
through the room the floor was bare, and The
furniture consisted of broken stove, two d
lapidaed chairs, deal table, and camp bed
stead, with most scanty supply of clothing.
Lillian was far from rich herself, but she hat
never seen anything equal this. None, ex
cept those living in large cities, have an idea
of the extreme poverty of some of the pool
there.
On the bed lay the living mother and the
dead infant together. A course, hard featured
woman was at work on the piece of white mus
lin, that was to robe the little form for lis last
resting place; and the poor mother wept a:
she thought of the brigh: Christmas day thai
would pass so happily 10 so many little chill
dren, and to SO many fond motlers, and of the
cold winter storms that would howl around the
grave of her child; and of the white winding
sheet of snow that would cover it ; and of the
violets and birds that would be there in the
spring time. She wept, as 'one without hope
for the poor human love of the mother coulc
not yet look up with The eye of faith, and see
her babe with the white winged band around
tHe 1redt throne.
Arthur Thornton stood by the door in 81.
lence. He had never witnessed scene like
this either. A new phase of life was revealed
to him. ,h
He knew that there was such poor, such
very poor people, but fortunate life had never
before brought him in contact with them. He
was not selfish or unfeeling man, only q
prosperous and thoughtless one; but as Lillian
Floyd bent over the bed, and with the sympa-
thetic tenderness of truly kind heart, talked
to the woman, as if she had been used to the
hannts of poverty all her life, he silently avow-
ed that, hereafter, the talent committed 10 his
care should not lie unproductige.
Lillian, in the meanwhile, was gathering the
history of the sick woman.
i am widow, and used to sew, Miss, fol
the shops she said, 'till got cold in the
fall, carrying some work home in the rain :
then was laid up, and it came dreadful hare
on US; for didn't get money enough to pn
any by, and Phillip only got dollar weel
for being the errand boy in grocery store
And his money, Miss, had to take it for th'
rent
WAS the baby sick long!' asked Lillian.
Yes, Miss, about two months. She tool
the fever from the want of food and fire it wa
that that killed her. and the mother burst int,
a passion of tears.
'And the doctors didn't care, Miss contin
ued she, ito come to see US poor people, wheI
there amt much chance of their being paid
They tell US to 60 to the dispensary, but whel
we get too ill TO 60 to them, we generally 60 t.
the grave next
But have you had no help, all this time
again asked Lillian, almost appalled,
The neighbors have been very kind, an
gave us all they could, but they are most a
poor as US, was the reply.
Thornton, during this conversation, had ser
the boy for physician for the mother, and tax
ing bill from his pocket-book had ordere
him to procure whatever was wanted from tn
grocers.
After slipping some money into the hand c
the sick woman, Lillian arose to 60, promising I
call the next morning.
Isn't it horrible said she, when they &C
into the street, to her companion, who SCENE
buried in thought, isn't it horrible to think thu
a little child should die from want in such
great city!'
Il never before realized it myself reple