The Literary echo, and Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1851-1854, 1853-01-20
THE ORPHAN BOY.

From the National Entelligencer, We
take the following:-
The hustle of the fight was over, the
prisoners had been secured, and the
decks washed the watch piped, and
the schooner had relapsed into midnight
and repose. sought my hammock and
soon fell asleep. But my slumbers were
disturbed by wild dreams which like the
visions of a fever, agitated and unnerved
me /; the late strife, the hardships OF
my early life, thousand other things
mingled together as figures in phan-
tasmagoria. Suddenly hand was laid
on MY shoulder, and starting up / be-
held the surgeons mate
Little Dick, sir, is dying" he said.
At once sprang from my hammock.
He was pale child, said to be an orphan
and used to gentle nature, and from the
first hour l joined the schooner, my
heart yearned towards him, for l, too,
once had been friendless and alone in
the world. He had often talked in con-
fidence to me of his mother, whose
memory he regarded with holy reverence
while to the other boys of the ship he
had but littlo to cay for they were
rude and coarse, he delicate and sensi-
tive. Often when they jeered him for
his melancholy, he would go apart by
himself.and weep. He never complain
ed of his lot, though his companions i'm
posed on him continually. Poor lad |!
his heart was in the grave with his lost
parents.
l took a strange interest in him, and
lightened his task as much as possible.
During the late fight l owed my life to
him, for he rushed in just as a sabre
stroke was levelled at me, and by inter-
terposing his feeble cutlass had averted
the deadly blow. In the hurry and
confusion since, had forgotten to in
quire if he was hurt, though at the time
| inwardly resolved to exert all my little
influence to procure him a midshipman's
warrant in requital for his service. 1t
was with pang of reproachful agony,
that l leaped to my feet.
"You don't mean ?" l exclaimed.
{" He is not dying'"
81 fear, sir" said the messenger,
shaking his head sadly, that he cannot
live till morning."
sand I have been lying idly here !"
l exclaimed with remorse. Lead me
to him."
He is delirious, but in the intervals
of his lunacy he asks for you, sir" and
as the man spoke We stood beside the
bed of the dying boy.
The sufferer did not lie in his usual
hammock, for it was hung in the very
midst of the crew, and the close air
around it was too sitting but he had
been carried under the opening hatch
way, and laid there in a little space
about four feet square. From the sound
of the ripples judged the schooner was
in motion, while the clear, calm blue
sky, seen throug n the opening overhead,
and dotted with myriads Of stars, be-
tokened that the fog had broken away.
How calm it smiled down on the wan
face of the dying boy. Occasionally a
light current of wind-oh how delicious
ly cool in that pent up hold-eddied
down the hatchway, and lifted the dark
chestnut locks of the sufferer, as, with
his head reposing in the lap of an old
veteran, he lay in an unquiet slumber.
His shirt collar was unbuttoned, and his
childish bosom, as white as that of a
girl, was open and exposed. He breathed
quick and heavy. The wound of which
he was dying had been intens ly painful,
but within the last half hour had some
what lulled, though even now his fingers
tightly grasped the bed clothes, as if he
suffered the greatest agony.
A battle-stained and gray-haired sea-
man stood beside him, holding a dull
lantern in his hand, gazing sorrowfullyI
down on the sufferer The surgeon
knelt with his fingers upon the boys
pulse. As approached they all looked
up. The veteran who held him shook
his head, and would have spoken, but
the tears gathered too chokingly in his
eyes.
The surgeon said" He is going fast
poor little fellow-do you see this '"I
as he spoke he lifted up rich locket,
which had laid upon the boys breast.
4" He has seen better days"
l could not answer tor my heart was
was the being to whom, but
few hours before, l had owed my life
a poor, slight, unprotected child-lying
before ne with death already written on