New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1852-11-13
A RElnG1scENcE OF THE 1srHMus.
LITTLE cHARLIRs DEATH.

of the Pacific are described, in most graphic
End unique manner. From this sketch we ex-
, tract the episode which follows. II is at once
touching, and, no doubt, truthful. The hotel
mentioned by the writer was at Palenquilla,
and the night on which the occurrences narra-
ted took place was as stormy as the most mer-
CHESS Spanish guerrilla, or uncomfortable inn
keeper, could have desired The writer in the
midst Of the thick darkness, had reached q
building dignifed by the name Of hotel, and,
scraping the mud from his boots. retired to
rest in the attic. What followed is thus mar
rated 4
must have been very tired and sleepy, for
can only recollect one moment when the crack
ing of the cane floor beneath my step chimed in
beautifully with the pattering Of the heavy
rain drops on the roof, and / think slumber
seized me even as j settled down upon my prim-
tive couch. had hardly lost myself, as the
expression is, when was again reused to con-
seriousness by voices In the apartment below.
The first was that Of a woman, low and shril1,
impressng mo as coming from heart in Bit
terest warfare with its destiny, and curiously
OF variance with the lulling sound Of the rain,
and the dull, heavy, nlournful gustiness Of the
wind.
.sJohn,. it cried, in tones Of agony, edo
not let him die-he is my little angel! John,
oh cannot let him die r 81
6 Hush, dear" said another voice-the rough
and hard voice Of man-ss why should we ask
t. have him spared Has our life been so very
pleasant that We should pray for like boon
for him
The words, and the tone in which they were
uttered more than the words themselves, revealed
to me picture, suddenly illuminated as it were
by flash of heavens lightning, in which noted
all the details of one Of these unhappy lives so
commonly led by the sensitive and poor. 1t was
with no hope Of turning back the tide of hurrying
events, and yet certainly with no idle curiosity,
that crept along over the cane floor Of my
chamber toward the aperture, where could
leisurely inspect the scene below. Oh, what
would l not have given for the power and ap-,
pliances of the painter, to have stamped its lin
eaments upon the canvas, evenvas saw them
then A man and woman had entered, and were
seated side by side on two rude boxes, stationed
in corner Of the apartment, which was possibly
the most comfortable locale, if such an epithet
may be sapplied to premises 30 utterly wet and
cherries. These two ersonsseemed in full pos
session Of the house. The proprietor had either
gone out, or was called away to sleep in some
corn err hidden to my view. A second glance re-
vealed a third person, child of apparently not
more than five or six summers, whose emaciated
and spasmodic frame was almost wholly CEN
cealed by the protecting arms of the man, evil
IDENTIFY his father, This group of three was SO
disposed, with the feeble candle light falling full
upon them, that, in my desire to read the story
in their faces, almost Immediately saw their
each minutest line, while all the world beside
became nothing but the BLACKLIST void, and my
ear ceased to take note of the rain and gusty
wind, and heard nothing but the outpourings Of
these forlorn and seemingly forgotten spirits.
The man was apparently rather under what
is termed the middle age, Of small stature,
wasted and thin, as if from long care and self
denial. His attire, even in the abandon Of that
out f.the-way spot, somehow bespoke the gen.
tleman, and just as plainly, too, the poor gem
tleman. AS he sat holding his frail burden,
every moment, alas becoming Trailer, vainly
trying to smoothe it to q moments repose, and
after each unsuccessful effort turning his be-
seeching eyes to heaven, could read in his
sharp, pale face, his high, projecting, but not
broad forehead, his quick, restless eye, flashing
with q certain fire withal, and the unsteady
working of his mouth, the plainly written story
of high-hearted, disappointed man. There
was something in his whole demeanor which be-
spoke the man of pride, Of principle, Of genius,
too, but also Of irresolution-the most unhappy
man of all Gods images on earth-the man who,
seeing the prizes with which LIES lottery is
teeming, and knowing the way to reach them
yet lacks the nerve to follow therein, because
the cowardly doubt is still there, as to whether,
after all, the highest goods thus to be obtained
The woman, like the man, in one respect, at
least, was &c not now that which she had been"
and yet there were traces of her former better
self Pickering occasionally in her face and mien.
Although no smile played upon her lips, which
were once beautiful, but were now thin, and
drawn tightly together, as if to shut out from
her heart the atmosphere of a world that had
never seemed toeaove her, and no especial brill
lance flashed upon you when the lids were
raised from eyes around which were drawn dark
lines, and stood out in painful prominence from
wasted cheeks and although her costume was
Of the simplest, suggestive Of dull routine Of
daily tasks, and nothing Of the dashiness and
bravery Of life, yet there was something, not
exactly visible to the outward eye, which showed
that this was not the destiny to which she was
born else why should / have seen her, as in a
/ mirror of the past, sweeping with gallant grace
adown o gilded drawing room, or rousing to wild
gayety, a sea-shore or hearth side party, by
looks and tones fraught with fre-side electric
& sparks? Even now, and in that worn, slender.
compressed frame, there was secreted a posi-
bility of fascination, which needed only the
a awaken to active being You rude ones Of the
Al world, We who take pride in the scrupulous cor.
n RICHNESS Of your dealings in your business rela.
# tons with other men, paying promptly your pc
cuniary debts even to the uttermost farthing
W but who, in the calculating and unfeeling pur
(. suit Of your selfish ends, jostle the pure, tn
SN gentle, and the Incorporating from their path
Of life, depriying them thus of those simple plea
" sures which you know not Of, because you can
not enjoy them-think you that you will neve
ri be called to reckoning for this!
a And the little child, who was overlapping oil
W THIS WearlneSS anu misery OF lie, ana was S0Ol
Hi to be little cherub--I actually found mysel
81 chuckling over the idea that he was cheatin
Eli the old deceptive villain Of a world, and wa
eluding its clutches, even by stolen march t
N heaven. No frittering away Of the beauty an
9S& glory Of his young life, by unmanly cankerin
5 cakes The lustre of his roguish little eye wa
not to DO dimmed, the rosy fullness Of his mis-
chievous mouth was not to be wholly wasted
his laughing curls were not even to be cut, ii
he had lain them all in the bottom of the rottin
i<4 earth, which was their mother. / have sal
zthat he was child Of some five or six summer
There was none of the freshness Of winter abo,
d him-nothing even in his form, worn by diseas
suggestive Of cold or barrenness. He was d.
3icate summer flower, and now that he was ber
Brushed to earth, it was summer storm thu
lid it-a rude gale, that might break his fragi
6tock, and scatter far and wide his fair fra
Details, but which would none the less certainl
Il kaft the essence of his fragrance and loveline
bar beyond the clouds.
{& The father sat with the child in his arms n
with any hope of keeping him from the grasp
leath, bnt gently rocking him, as if trying
hull him off to slumber, ashe had often perchan
done after frolicsome days, when sleep car
with = poft and Mslcome tread, bringing plea
NJ dxsame and ensea whispers in her trai
- sAsswsst 49, 4 elesssw awaken,