Daily evening star. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1852-1854, 1853-11-09
THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL.

THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL.
Buy any matches buy any match.
es ?-please, sir, buy my matches 2" and
as the rain beat down with measured
tread on the old market sheds in Market
street, two tiny bare feet, with reluctant
pressure, kept tune on the cold, wet pave
ment below. Surprised, we turned to
discover what the owner of that plain
tive voice could be hopeful of doing, on
such night, and at such an hour, when
match buyers had retired to their homes
and their chambers the bits of wood -
the sad, feeble voice that cries-the in
fant hand of poverty that presented them
the expression which asks and urges
was not in their dreams they wandered
then where no such children come. We
turned was there hope in that face as it
turned to look up to US imploringly re-
vealing small pale features by the lamp
light, which gave an additional pallor to
her appearance. Nature need not be
ashamed of her handiwork in this child
of misfortune, methought, as great tears
rolled from the lustrous eye, and awaken
ing a response down in the well of our
own soul. Those tears were from the
great fountain of childhood s woes, where,
as age comes OH, the water drys I'D, and
consuming fire RACES in its depths.
which scorches and burns the goodness
and purity that was planted there, and
might, but for it, grow and strengthen
into perfect bloom. About her fair pro-
portioned forehead lay ''matted and ur-
combed locks" Her Grecian profile and
general expression gave one an idea of
superiority in this, over other children
usually found clad in such habiliments
and thus employed. This aroused in us
an indesclibable desire to know of what
and whom she was, and why in the big
long market shed at this unreasonable
hour.
"Why, child, what are you doing here
at this time of night % were our words,
g this is no time to sell matches; see
there is only an occasional person in the
street, and they are not likely ly to stop and
buy matches in the rain" ooh please
to buy my matches-do, sir and let me
60 home ~ eco home at any rate
there is no one to buy to-night-go home
and wait till morning, besides you have
exposed the matches to the rain, and
they are spoiled" Again those dewy
eyes, full of sad memories, raised to our
own with gaze, such as would haunt us
between waking and sleeping. 1t spoke
the anguish of that child's heart, grown
old with its cares, and would gladly
have shut it out and the soft trembling
voice broke forth-a new trouble was
hers. "Oh, sir; if they are spoiled,
shall stay in this market all nights and
in the morning | shall not dare 60 home,
for shall have no money. | can never
60 to bed till l have sold all my matches
they will never let me - The sad
reality of the oft-told tale ran through
our mind, that this little creature was
driven forth day by day to sell those bits
of merchandise, with orders not to return
without money, obtained by the sale of
given quantity of the same. Preferring
that she should give her own story, we
asked, "Why can't you go home!" Her
eyes fell as she replied, picking the string
that fastened her hood; "Oh, sir, father
-is-is-mother says l must not tell
about him-she is good and feels so bad
about him! l can't tell about him-but
he will not let me come home, unless
bring money for him to get what he
wants."
Affecting ignorance, we suggested that
he wanted the money to buy bread
NO" said the child, "once he did buy
Bread" and added, half doubtinglv,
''mother says he lived in nice house, but
father got sick or something, and did mt
live there any more, and he never buys
bread more" No pleasant recollection
came rushing in to darken the present by
comparison, or beguile her for moment,
to let her live over again the past; twas
not her recollection, but her mother's s.
pleasant something beyond her concep-
tion-better for her had her little memory
retained it, for tits painfully pleasant to
look back upon bright or even shadowy
conceptions, when the present is dark
and the future heavy and dense with its
unrelieyed blackness. where is your
home, child, will go and take you" said
we. ats long walk for a gentleman to
~ III QUILL =" StOl III Ol IL COulo OillS
sell my matches, I'd down there in little
time" Come" said we, drawing her
under the umbrella, as we merged into
the open space. The vaulted heavens
were black and spread a gloom, through
which the rays from the street lamps
pierced but dimly. The rain fell faster
and in greater drops, and the heavy Au-
tumnal wind impeded the progress and
chilled the strong, well-clad man, and for
any other than an accustomed child, must
have been beyond endurance; but she,
one of the many infant victims of misfor-
tune, had learned TO encounter and en-
dure so very early.
Twas plain that her father had lost his
way before her time, and she, helpless
thing, had been set down in a wilder.
ness life, amid surroundings beyond her
control, and was wandering-Oh! she
knew not whittier. When the good shep-
herd gathers his flock, will not this lamb
require and be shown especial favor 3
Her misdeeds, for whom others than her.
self are responsible, forgotten in commits
seration and love-for tits such as hel
that elicit most of these from the goot
parent. At first our little guide was re
luctant. as if fearing some harm would
4