The Lancaster ledger. [volume] (Lancaster, S.C.) 1852-1905, 1853-02-02

plain was their supper; but the faces which
gathered around it--how they beamed
with happiness! There Were no brighter
little eyes, and no smoother golden curls
in the city than were there; and the cheek
Of the fairest lady wore no lovelier hue,
nor did her heart beat more joyously than
did that of the elder sister, when a well
known manly tread was heard on the
threshold of the humble dwelling; and
the millionaire was no richer and proudcr
man that night than was the poor labor
er when be gazed on his healthful and
happy family.
But the poor old man who looked from
the garrct window, no more felt sympa-
thy with these; and he raised his trcm-
bling hand to let fall the curtain, for he
felt it impossible to contemplate longer
those scenes of JOY. The rude garret.
however, had never boasted covering
for its solitary window, but had it done so
it could not have shut out those pictures
from his gaze,-they were engraven on
his heart. and their reflection he saw in
every thing about him. He turned away
from the window and sat down bv the lit
tie furnace which was so scantiv supplied
with Goals that the bcnumbcd fingers
scarcely felt the warmth. A lamp flick
cred in a corner, just brightly enough to
show the gloom and desolatcncss Of the
apartment, and the wan, haggard countc-
nance of the old man, now more than usu-
ally forloru and hopeless in its expressions:
for he felt,-and perhaps it was so, there
was not, in the whole city, that fair Chris
mas night, being so utterly wrctchcd rs
himself There was not one face to smile
on him, not one to wish him JOY; the old
man knew not that in all tie wide world
there was one who would think of him
that night, though he had lived so long
on the earth, and thoug thin siIvcry hair,
the dimming eye, the pale furrowcd check
and the tottering steps told that but for a
brief period longer human kindness would
affect him.
And wherefore was it so! Alas, alas .
as his heart asked of itsclfthe question, .hc
old mans head sank on his breast, and
an involuntary sigh escaped him. The
friend in whom he had trusted, whom the
child had learned to love and revere, for
whom the youth had forgotten pleasure.
and the man all rational enjoyment for
whose sake he had been the unnatural
brother, the undutiful son, the purjurcd
lover, and the cruel father,-this friend
which he had preferred to every thing on
earth,-in whom bis hope was stronger
than it was in Heaven, had failed him in
his hour of nccd, 1t had become his bit
tercst enemy. In all the city there were
but few men whose wealth exceeded his,
and yet he was so wrctchcd that, at this
hour, when his eye would look ON the pres
ent, and his memory would bring up the
past, he would gladly have exchanged sit
uations with the meancst beggar on the
earth. Instead of the sweet music it once
whispered i'll his ear, luling the voice OF
consciencc,-the clink of that counted
treasure fell on his heart like the stunning
thundcr-bolt.
A lifetime Of toll that the dying head
might rest on pillow Of thorns!
How clear and bright shone the Moon
and stars !! what soft, gentle radiance
came through the frosted window pancs
as the dim lamp went out,-soft, but
coId,-Oh how terrible cold was every
thing about him!
The old man threw n handful of Goals
OH the expiring fire, and crouchcd down
beside the little furnace. Had one been
there to look on those, closed eyes, and
that pale, inanimate face, one might have
thought the torpor Of death was creeping
over him but it was not even sleep which
was enchanting his faculties,-it was the
dying Of the light of the soul. Most fccbly
for long time past had burned that light,
few were the rays it had shed over his
winters night, and now it was going out
forever; yet again and again the Pickering
flame streamed up, and by its glare he
saw,-the man could not close his mental
yision,--all he once was,-all lie might
have been. How distinct were those
scenes in the past, as they moved before
him in panoramic view,
The old man was child again,-a lit
tie boy in the village school. 1t was a
cold winters day; the snow was lying
tuiCh On tlc cdTtI dlu tnc WIN was DIOW-
ing so wildly that the most hardy of the
children were gathered with their timid
companions around the fire, preferring to
spend the short noon recess in the school
house at the risk of their dinner, to expos
ing themselves to the freezing air. But
one little boy, child Of eight years, was
preparing to 90 home. The warm wrap
per was closely buttoned around him, the
handsome cap was drawn down over that
fair brow, the fur collar was fastened about
his neck, and thick mittens encased his
hands: and he stood among his compan-
ions impatiently waiting the arrival of
John with the sleigh to take him home.
In corner Of the wide fireplace, and
occupying as small space as they con-
veniently could,stood two children, girl
Of seven, and her little brother, not more
than five years Of age. They were very
thinIy clad. and their sad faces told of