Mineral Point tribune. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1854-1858, 1856-12-02


could not engage my attention A strange
unaccountable feeling of recklessness anc
anxiety seemed to possess me. AT last
resoluteIy closed the book, and In a few
minutes later, was in Broadway, men.
tally censuring my folly in yielding to a
feeling | could not resist.
All, me looking back through the eirhr
years that lie between that dreary nigh
and the present, how clearly can discov-
er the great Fathers love in il all.
What IS it you want here, little boy?'
see him now just as though had seen
hun this morning, and the light from the
tail window is falling on him Just as it fell
then, revealing his ragged dress and pale
pinched features, and the cold rain is
dropping oft his thick brown curls, Just as
1t ald then. It Is a strange, mournful
picture; the dark night III the background
and the little ragged boy, and the brilliant
/ lI9AtS, and the great store with all sorts
of rare confections in front. No wonder
Il touched my heart. The boy started as
| laid my hand gently on his shoulder and
looked up with wild, eager, bright eyes
into my face
Oh, sir said he after moments ear
nest perusal of my features, | was think
ing if | only COULD carry one of those
cakes home to Ellen; she is very sick.
and--and-(the little fellows lip quiv-
ered,) we havn't had anything to eat for
two days
/ did not speak another word, but I
caught hold of the child and pulled him
after me into the store.
Hand me down plate of those cakes
| SAID to the astonished clerk, who turned
with more than ordinary alacrity to fulfill
my order | drew the boy into a small
slttIng-room at one end OF the establish
ment. Now eat these as fast as YOU
can, and then tell me who Ellen is
His hungry look, the strange ayidity
with which he grasped the food, almost
WFung tears from my eyes.
Ellen is my sister, my only sister since
the baby died. We are alone now
Last month, just after they buried moth
er, she grew sick | suppose it was be-
cause she cried so much; and she's been
growing worse all the time
And there is nobody 10 take care of
her but YOU, my little felIow?'
Nobody but me-the money mother
left IS all gone, you see, sir, and though
sometimes earn siNpence by selling pa
pers or cleaning sidewalks, | couldn't
leave Nelly for the last week, she grew
50 much worse. Oh, sir, how good these
taste! | can't thank you, but l want to. ;
Well, you needn't, my boy said l.
want no other thanks than your enjoy
ment of them.
Bot mayn't | take the rest home 10
Nelly! She'll be frightened, am gone
50 long. o, sir, if you would only 90
with mer
IN come and see you and Nelly to-
morrow, | SAID, if you'll tell me where
you 1--we, and now while you are eating
the remainder Of your cakes, I'll get some
thing that Nelly will like better.
then procured basket which I saw
we'll stocked with u variety of fruits and
confections most likely to tempt the appe
tlte of an invalid, and adding to these all
the money had with me, | returned 10
the child.
Go home to Nelly with these, as fast
as you cam | said, and tell her that /
VIII come to see her tomorrow morning
Now be man, my little boy, and take
good care Of sister Ellen, till them
And are all these for her?' said the
child. as his large, bright, wondering
eyes roamed over the basket And she
has been moaning in her sleep for an or
ange, for whole week Oh, sir, we will
pray God to bless YOU for all this; and he
will, for mother used to say He would
hold those IN everlasting remembrance
who forgot not the widow and the orphan
and tears Of gratitude and delight were
/ ShowerIng fast down the little fellows
face as we parted.
The next morning, Hattie, | received
that letter which summoned me to my
fathers dying bedside. | had, of course,
no time to fulfill my engagement with the
little orphans in whom had become so
greatly interested; indeed the mournfuI
circumstances which drew me once more
to the home Of my childhood banished
them from my mind
If you win look back to that time, nv
little sister, you will remember that April
was weaving her green carpets over the
meadows, before we parted, and return
ed to the city 10 complete my studies, and
then TO enter that service, in which. be-
fore our fathers dying bed, had solemn
Iy pledged myself TO spend all the life
that God should grant me.
had forgotten the place Of the boys
residence, but l made several attempts to
discover 1t after my return to the city, all
of which proved Intellectual
1t was the sunset of a bright day in the
early Afay-time, and even the great city
locked fairer for the sunshine that plated
the house tops with gold, and swept in
golden flakes and dimPles along the pave
ments up which | was passing, with some
fellow students 10 supper.
Now, Marshall, remember to call for
US in time, for the lecture commences at
seven, and it viii certainly be crowded.
called out one of my companions, as we
reached the corner, where our paths d.
verged.
l bowed my assent and adieu, and was
hurrying forward, when my coat was sud-
& / ,-l J