Eastern times. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1846-1857, 1855-12-20
Ggt storp GtlIer
OLD ROGER JOHNSON.
BY PAUL cREYToN.

Roger johnson, fumbling the bit of silver in
his palm. Ten cents. he repeated, childish.
ly, feeble smile fitting over his lips, with a
sickly glare on his haggard features 'tiss mt
much, but it will buy my supper-breakfast,
dinner, supper, all in one-and God be thank
ful for that-God be thankful for that =
His words died away to an inaudble whis-
per, and hugging his tattered garments around
him, he tottered along the street.
1t was the close of a rude winters day
The evening dusk had fallen. and few fakes
of snow 1uttered down out of the dark gray
clouds that floated over the city. As old Rog-
er picked his way carefully across the icy
slabs, gay young lamplighter passed on his
evening round, set his ladder against a post
close by, mounted smartly, and touched with
match the eager jet of gas, which cast yell
low radiance all around the old mans feet.
Ha! said Roger. with ghost of laugh
floating airily from his numb, cold lips, that's
good omen. Light, light, golden light, too.
all over my poor old ragged shoes So, in
my life, I've been cropping, though Heaven
knows l capered as gaily as any schooI-boy,
once, and walked as proudly as any youth, af-
terwards-till now the cold winter night set
ting in, and It's all-powerful dark before me
so dark and chill, and threatening But there
will come CLEAN soon-just like this which
brightens all around me-and-and-'
The old man was mumbling again-with
sort of childish, dreamy gee, when setting his
foot incautiously upon clod of ice, he slipped,
and fell helplessly upon the frozen ground
Hillo, old man-you hurt = cried merry
school-boy.
He's down. there looking after pins, ;
laughed another, sliding by, with sled at his
heels.
The boys passed on and the old man strug-
gled to regain his feet. But he was feeble
and rheumatic, aud the fall had well nigh
shaken the life out of him. When he came
little to himself, he observed that kind gen.
ileman was assisting him with cheering words.
No, am not much damaged said Roger,
gratefully. Thank you, sir, it wouldn't have
been much matter if had broken my neck. /
amt of much account in this world-nobody
would miss old Roger Johnson
Have you far to gol' asked the stranger.
Not tonight, thank Heaven. 1 live, or
rather stay, right around the corner here, third
door up the alley
Well, good night 10 you. Mind and keep
larc riod a.
He passed on, and the old man, dragging
his shaking limbs into provision shop on the
corner, purchased loaf OF bread with the bit
of silver to which he had clung tightly all the
while, then creeping with unsteady steps into
the alley, entered dark, dilapidated doorway
with his supper under his arm.
As he was stumbling up dismal old stair
case, sharp feminine voice cried out to him
from the floor of the first landing;
Is that you, johnson =
| suppose i is, though sometimes more
than half believe am somebody else,' replied
the old man
sWhere does that light come from = asked
Roger. DO you indulge in lamp-light, for it
is hardly dark, Mrs. Stone 2
sCome in here, and you'll see There,
you didn't expect such fire as that, did you,
johnson =
Bless you, woman, that | didn't! You
are as warm as toast here. How jolly it is to
see stove all of a glow like that, Where
did your coal come 'front.'
o. said Mrs. Stone, Sydney brought me
three dollars to-day and the children was all
shivering and chattering on the little wood
fire, took it into my head that these three
dollars should go to getting US all warm once,
if we were never warm again in our lives
So what did do but go and order quarter
of ton of coal, and the young ones have been
as merry as crickets ever since. They
quite content to go without their supper, so
there's good fire for them to hudde down by.
It's free warm, johnson. As long as the
coal lasts, want everybody to enjoy it that
can. You shall sit with US this evening
your room is awful dreary, Johnson
The frozen tears thawed in the old man s
eyes; but his voice was SO choked that he
could not express his thanks. Seating him
self in an old rickety chair, he warmed his
cold shins, and rubbed his shrivelled hands
over the stove, patted the children's heads,
and ended by dividing the larger portion of his
loaf among them, reserving but scanty frag-
ment for himself.
Mrs. Stone demonstrated against his gener-
osity. a
But the children seized upon the food SC
eagerly, that the grateful old man declared
with tears running down his cheeks, that it die
him more good to see them eat, than for him
to sit down and eat most bountiful feast.
The meagre meal was soon concluded, wher
heavy footsteps were heard upon the stairs
The poor womans heart almost ceased to beat
She turned SO pale that the old man observes
her change of ofcountenance, even in that dim
light a ne-l - s.ps
1t is father = whispered the children.
At that mnment an angry voice demanded
with an oath, why she did not hold light.
sHush,' said Mrs. Stone to the covering
little ones "a faaN r alas Na3as- IS.
She opened the door, and presently shah
NV frost t-bitten niddie-ared man came blus