The Sumter banner. [volume] (Sumterville, S.C.) 1846-1855, 1853-02-08
mi sIsSCELL LANEOUS
THE RECONCILIATION.
o r. T. III L ID r. E a M
~ "a Story from Real Life.

81. b Y OLD MICH LAS.
tsIYill you give me a penny, sir?
said a little ragged boy, as l passed
sskhe step Of q door on which he
WAS sitting.
There was something so anbcggar
iySin the tone and manner of the sup
! plieant, that / stopped.
~ Yes, SAID ] and took one from
my pocket.
I$looked the child in the face: there
MAS a degree Of intelligence that
commanded sttenton; an expression.
too, that for q moment l faucied ]
had seen before.
As pat the money into his hqnd
& asked him where he lived.
In court over the bridge be re.
piled.
With your mothcr?'
s. es, sir;s and father and sisters.
I beckoned hip from the main
street to lesrA more, In a few
minutes 1 heard enough to deter
mine me on accompanying him
home. We crossed Blackfriar's
Bridge, and, after winding through
several courts and alleys, on the
Surrey side, and close by the riv.
5er, we stopped at a small hovel,
which appeared fit only sor the abode
OF wrctchedness and misery.
child pushed the door open,
and we cntrrri. In tho centre OF
the aoot, upon what appeared to be
the remains Of piece Of mating,
sat a young woman of apparent
Siytfive or six anil twenty. In her
arms was an ipf;.nt of very tender
age; two or three little ones we're
shuddled together in q corner, whose
crying ny appearance partially Lush.
ed.
= Their mother raised heytssN from
sthe baby as 4 appt 5iti 81 fier. /
apologised for the liberty had taken
in intrudiug upon her sorrows. She
answered not, but burst into tears. |
offered her my arm to raise her from
the floor, and looked lound, but in
vain. for a chai. cr stool, the walls
were bare. She was too weak to
stand. | stepped into the adjoining
tenement cottage cannot call it,
and putting down half-a,crown on
.tho table, begged tho loan of an
old chair, that was the only furni-
ture Of one side Of the apartment.
When the poor creature was seat
ed, Il asked in what WY ! could
best serve her.
'Oh, sir!' she replied, tfood food
for my poor little ones!'
III gave the little fellow who had
been my conductor, money, and badc
him get some meat and bread. In
an instant he was out Of sight. 1
comforted as we'll as I was able the
apparently dying woman; told her
tho accident that had brought me to
her, and promised the little assis,
;tancs that might bo in my power. She
would have spoken her thanks, but
her strength was exhausted with the
few words, she had already uttered.
The children, encouraged by the
Skind tone Of voice in which / spoke,
now one by one stole from their
/, corner, and came round me. They
would have been fine. healthy :crea-
tures, if misery had not marked
them for her own;' but the cheek was
hollow, the eye supken, the lip thin
and livid. Hunger was fast con.
.suming them. AS I looked upon
them my heart sank within mo, and
L could not drive back the tears that
forced themselves into my eyes. They
fellsupon the forehead Of the tallest Of
the group; she looked Up, and see.
ing nae weep, asked most piteopsly,
Are you hungry, sir, too?'
Poor child! with her, hunger had
ever been associated with tears; the
sight Of them put the question into
$.hersmouth.
81 mo- said /; 4 am not.hungry; but
you are, and shall soon be fed
And me?'-'And me?'-..And me?'
exclaimed the others; their eyes glis.
atening as they spoke.
Yes, all Of you.' I answered.
Some time had now elapsed, and
my little messenger did not make his
appearances. 1 grew impatient; for
they needed more substantial com
aiort than words. / moved to the
,doorsto look for him. Taking q
few steps up the court, / found him
! llcanlp.s S'3at4!I g against theGwall, and cry
ing ], bitterly; llYF on seeing me he hid
2hisff3lce inAltis hands.
What Is the matter?l said j; sanQ
where sis the 5money i gave YOU?
Father saw rnc, atsa took it