The Davenport gazette. [volume] (Davenport, Scott Co., Iowa) 1841-185?, 1853-07-07
The Little 0utcast.


"Mayn't l stay, nam! I'll do anything
you give me-cut wood, go after water, anC
do all your errands."
The troubled eyes of the speaker were
filled with tears It was lad that stood
at the outer door, pleading with a kindly
looking woman, who still seemed to doub,
the reality of his good intentions.
The cottage stood alone on black moor,
or what in Scotland would have been call
ed such. The time was near the latter end
of September, and fierce wind rustled
through the trees around the house, and fled
with shivering sound through the narrow
doorway as if seeking for warmth at the
blazing fire within.
Now and then, snow flake touched
with its soft chill, the cheek of the listener
or whitened the angry redness of the boys
benumbed hands.
The woman was evidently loath to grant
the boys request, and the peculiar expires.
sion stamped upon his features, would have
impressed any one with an idea of depravi-
ty far beyond his years.
But her woman's heart could not resist
the sorrow in those large, but by no means
handsome gray eyes.
ssCome in, at any rate, till the good man
comes home. There-sit down by the fire
you look perishng with the cod''-and she
drew a chair up to the warmest corner, then
suspiciously gancing at the child from the
corners of her eyes, she continued setting
the table for supper.
Presently came the tramp of heavy feet
the door was flung open with a quick jerk
IL fpd soi If
weary with labor.
A look of intelligence passed between
himself and his wife. He, too, scanned tht
boys face with an expression not evincine
satisfaction, but nevertheless, made hin
come to the table, and then enjoyed the
zest with which he despatched his supper.
Day after day passed, and yet the boy
begged to be kept ''only till to-morrow;" 81
the good couple, after consideration, decidet
that so long as he was docile, and worke,
SO heartily, they would retain him.
| One day, in the middle of winter, ped
dler long accustomed to trade at the cottage
made his appearance, and disposed OF hi
goods readily, as he had been waited for.
"You have boy out there splitting
wood" he said, pointing to the yard.
eyes, do you know him!'
ave seen him. replied the peddler, eva
sively.''
"And where! Who is he! What j:
he!'
a Jail bird." and the peddler swung his
hammock over his shoulder. "That boy
Young as he looks, | saw in court myself
heard his sentence-ten months He's |
| hard one-you'd do well to look keeriully
after him"
| Oh, there was something SO hon lble il
the word jail-the poor woman trembied a:
| she laid away her purchases, nor could she
bc easy till she called the boy in, and as
sured him that she knew that dark part o
| his history.
Ashamed, distressed, the poor child hung
down his head. His cheeks seemed burst
| ing with his hot blood. His lips quivercd
and anguish was painted as vividly upon hi
| forehead as if the words were branded intt
his flesh.
"WeH,'' he muttered, his whole frame re
laxing as if burden of guilt or joy ha'
rolled ofI--sI may as we'll go to ruin a
once-there's no use in me trying to d
better-cverybody hates and despises me
nobody cares for mel may as well go t
ruin at once!"
"Tell me-" said the woman, who stoo'
far enough off for flight if that should b.
necessary-"tell me how you came to g
to that dreadful place. Where was you
mother!'
"Oh," exclaimed the boy with a bursting
of grief that it was terrible to behold
| han't had no mother ever since was ba
BY If I'd only had MOTHER" he contin
ued his anguish growing vehement, and the
tears gushing out from his strange looking
gray eyes, Il wouldn't ha' been bound out
and kicked and cuffed and laid upon witt
whips. | wouldn't ha' been saucy, and go
knocked down, and then runaway and stole
because was hungry. On han't got nc
mother-I havn't had no mother since
was baby!'
The strength was all gone from the boy
| and he sunk down on his knees sobbne
great choking sobs, and rubbing the no
tears away with his poor knuckles. Ant
did that woman stand there unmoved! Dlt
she coldly bid him pack up and be ofi-t'
the Jail!
! No. no! she had beon mother. and tho
all her children slept under the cold sod II
the churchyard, she was a mother still!
She went up to that poor boy-not u
hasten him away-but to lay her finger
kindly and softly upon his head, to tell hin
to look up, and henceiorth find in her
mother. Yes-she even put her arm
about the neck of that neglected, forsakeI
child of sorrow-she poured from her moth
er's hear, sweet, womany words OF counse
and tenderness.
Oh, how sweet was her sleep that night
How soft was her pillow! She had llnke'
poor suffering heart to hers by the mos
slken bands OF love. She had plucked SOM
thorns from the path of little SHINING NOR
tai! None but the angels could witnes
her holy joy without envy.
Now-he is with her still; vlgorou
manly, promising youth. The low expires
sion of features on his countenance, ha
given place to one of pleasing frankness
and quiet joy, with depth enough to max
it an interesting study.
His foster-father is dead; his good foster
mother is aged and sickly, but she know
no want. The once poor outcast is her on
" dependence, and nobly does he repa
the trust.
. "He that saveth soul from death, hidet
multitude of sins!'