Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1854-05-17
! bOitt gittratutG.
THE RED PURSE.
by vIRaINIA F. TOWNSEND.

BY VIRGINIA +. TOWNSEND.
It was winters day. Strips Of pale,
slbkly-looking blue sky shone between the
aey clouds, and the wind went down the
road thoroughfares, sometimes witha loud
Shrek, sometimes with low moan.
The eye Of an artist would have brighten
ed as it rested on her-that little girl who
came lightly out Of an imposing edifce on
Broadway, and stood o moment on the high
steps. She looked very beautiful as she
tossed back the long curls which blast
wound over her forehead, and glanced up
with hor large brown eyes to the Clouds
She had gathered the folds Of her richly !.
embroidered cloak f1nre closely around kS<4
small figure, and was preparing to descend
the steps, when q look of surprise drifted
into the laughing blue eyes, and the next
moment shadow had fallen on the young
fair face.
Will you please to give me penny
Mother Is sick, and We haven't had anything
to eat for two days 1t was an eager, sor-
rowful voice, that asked the question, and
there was something strangely pathetic in
the pale pinched face and large mournful
eyes which the boy lifted to the little girl,
as he stood before her, with his threadbare
coat, and the short brown curls creeping
from under his rimless hat
Il havn't penny, little boy said the
child, in low tone, while her face grew
very beautiful with its expression Of sym
pathy. Haven't you got father or a
brother, or somebody to take care of you =
Father is Dead answered the boy, while
tremor Of emotion passed over his lip,
and so We haven't anybody to take care of
US, and mother and are starving. Can't
you give me something, please
Well now / remember, I've got dol
lar upstairs. had saved it to buy doll
for Christmas, but you may have it. Wait.
minute : and she was gone.
Here it is, little boy, in this red purse
and, breathless with haste, she placed it in
his hand. 'Papa's gone away, and Betty
won't give me anything for beggars, but
you can buy something for your mother
and you to eat, with the dollar
Thank you, little girl The boy Is voice
was low and tremulous, and the tears stood
in his large blue eyes, and his face was full
Of eloquent gratitude, as his small purple
fingers closed over the silk purse.
'Oh am 50 glad / gave it to him
my old doll will do just as well. Poor lit
tie boy how sorrowful he looked and he
and his mother was starving too : and little
Maggie dashed back the tears that twink
led on her brown lashes, and went on her
way, little dreaming that the future held
for her day when that deed of love should
be repaid to her with good measure, pres
sed down and running over.
ooh cannot do it l cannot do it !!
and the speaker sank into dilapidateC
chair, and bu: ried her face in her hands
while the tears dripped through her small
fingers, and her long Twilight broaOn curl
hoated luxuriant and dishevelled about her
The light of the setting day came dowI
between the rows of wood houses, and look
cd with benediction-like smile into tn
chamber II was very small and YER
destitute one. 10 one corner there was
bed, and on this lay an aged woman, ap
parently an invalid, but sorrow, more thai
time, had bleached those locks to their hoar
whiteness, and seemed so deeply the fore
head beneath them.
Bring me cup Of tea, Maggie, for
am hungry, child murmured the sick W.
man in her uneasy slumber, and then III
young girl sprang up hastily, and approach
ingthe bedside, hung over it very tenderl,
Pen years have wrought many changt
in the form and face of Margaret Harmon,
The old light has gone out Of the darl
brown eyes, and the smile no longer fas
es like sunshine through the bed of dir
Piles in that pale face still, the same bea
tiful tenderness with which it looked on Il
beggar boy in front of her fathers mansiC
fills it, as her fingers wander gently ov
the wrinkled brow, and she murmurs,-
Mother, for your sake, will do it. Al
thing, rather than hear you call for food
your sleep, and have none to give yol
Mrs Simpson, have concluded to ia
Nancys place this evening, as you say S
is still too i'll to leave the house : and n
waiting to receive the thanks of the goc
hearted but very loquacious neighbor, Nj
garet Hammond hurried away.
Twenty years had hardly made their p
sage over that young head, but the late OIL
had been full of exceeding bitterness to
whose life had dawnod amid every luxu
which wealth and affection could besto'
for the death Of her father had been follC
ed by series Of pecuniary disasters, VIII
had at last brought the widow and orpl
Of the wealthy merchant to the very de
tute situation in which we have introdut
them to the reader.
X
II was brilliant scene. Chandel
poured their soft silvery glances throl
the spacious drawing.rooms, and over
crowd of ehiyalry and beauty assent
there.
He was standing by the side of his mC
or, in one corner Of the apartment,
young and gifted orator, whose genius
elected so much applause, and won him
ready so many laurels. He was a no
looking man, and he received the hoI
and attentions lavishcd upon aim to
gree which would have intoxicated
self-reliant spirit, with quiet, impress.
grace; albeit an expression Of mingled
ness and sarcasm would sometimes sv
over the clear, strong contour of his
lures.
There was something, too, strangely
ming in the face of the lady by his side
the sorrowful pensiseness which other
had written in those soft blue eyes,
which no subsequent prosperity could {