The Placer herald., 1855-10-27

thought Woulu eluplOy nun, ana Ii ne would |
come the next day at two o'clock, would |
get him the situation, and pay him the first
months salary in advance Detected, he
turned upon his heel and left the office. The
next morning went to my friends store; he |
was out for a few minutes. While was
standing in his door, an acquintance with a
fine horse and buggy came along and asked |
me to ride with him to the Mission. | at
one consented, thinking to call as came in.
We went to the Mission and from there to
the race course. Time flew swiftly, and be- |
fore | was aware of it, two o'clock had pas
sed, and | came home to find that the boy
had been to see me- and had gone away. |
did not suppose would see him again that
night so put off the matter-so important
to him-till the next morning. But he came
again in the evening, and | had to tell him
that had been away. The next dav at
twelve, however. should see him in his new
place. 1t was nearly twelve Of the next day,
when bethought myself of my promise. [
hastened down to see my friend, and found
that the vacancy had been filed about an
hour before. Conscience smitten returned
to my Office, and | met the boys anxious
look as | entered the door. | told him
had just been to see about the promised
situation, and it was taken up, yet, thought
| could get him place soon. He thanked
me- but his heart was bursting | saw that
an anxiety, terrible for one so young, was
wearing his life away.
The next day found him place and
engaged ii for him. / sat in my office writ
ing, when the door soitly opened and he
entered. He was pale but calmer than had
before seen HIM
We'll. my fine fellow" said I, II have got
YOU place at last. You are to have twenty
five dollars a month, and You shall have
whole months salary in advance if you like"
He came toward me and handed me a slip
Of paper. 1t was q notice for the newspaper.
and announced the dcafB Of his naotdeI
have had many severe crosses, my dear
jim, I have felt that all was lost, and that
my life was not worth a rush have seen
my fondest hopes crushed by one fell blow,
and have felt to cry out in agony at the
cruel fate that pursued me. But all that |
had ever suffered was nothing to what | felt
when looking on that pale calm, intellectual
boy with lis bright b;g, blue eve gazing
supenaturally into mine, and thought how
that, perhaps, but for my neglect, his mo-
ther might have been alive. | know not
how ! looked, or how acted. but know
that man never suffered more in short space
OF time than did have never got over it |
yet, and | never shall. You may not be able /
to realize the full force Of it, but Il would /
not have the same touch Of heart-break .
again-no, not for all the lands ever owned /
by McGregor."
After that, tried to do what could to
drive away the deep melancholy that seemed .
to have settled upon him. But he would /
not be comtorted. He seemed to be i'm /
pressed with the idea that here in san Fran
cisco. where so MANY live in extravaganza
and spIendor, his only friend, his beloved
and attectionate mother, had been allowed
to perish in abcct poverty and neglect. |
attended the funeral, and interested some Of
my friends in the case, so that she had de-
cent burial. But the boy thanked me not.
How could he3 Could he feel gratitude that
| had shown an interest III the dead, which
I denied to the liying3 lie seemed disncin-
ed to receive any favor from me, and his clear
calm, mild eve, was too much forme to look
at. | quailed before it, as never quailei
before. That he might not suppose that it
was that was acting in his behalf, got
friend to offer him situation, where he
could earn more than his support. But he
did not keep it long. He grew paer and
paler each day, and soon was too weak to
attend to his duties at all. | watched him
with more than fraternal interest, and often
went to see him at his room. It was evident
that he would soon die. Iprocured a watch
er for him. for my own presence seemed to
trouble him, and when went the next day
to see him, found that he was dead.
He died, as he had lived, cursing me, be-
lieve in his heart. | felt while he lived that
his curse was justly upon me, and have
often recalled the terrible lines Of Coleridge
An orphan curse would drag to hell
\ spirit from on high:
Bat Oh, more terrible than that
Is a curse in a dead mans eye
lie is dead now dear Jim, but this lesson
have learned; never again to put of the bust
ness of another for the sake of my own. Life
I or death may depend upon his, while nine
/ YOU know, is Of little importance; for though
life be at stake, ask why should perpetuate
so ftful an existence!
The Bones of our Forefathers.
/ There has been long mooted among anti
( quarlans an interesting question as to the
exact locality Of the spot which was used as
the burial gronnd Of the Pilgrims, after their
landing at Plymouth. History tells us that
one-haf of the little band who came over in
the Maytlower, were inferred upon the hill
near the wafer (noW known aS Colo's hill \