The Union and eastern journal. [volume] (Biddeford [Me.]) 1854-1858, 1856-03-28

home without the means to buy at least a
pint Of whiskey, and hc had only one cent
in his pocket. But IL was freezing cold,
and these alighting from carriages hurried
into the hotel, and those coming out could
not bc induced to unbutton their coats to
get at their pockets, and 30 the poor boy ut.
terly failed Of success. r.,..
Sheltered by the Treasury, he ran along,
shivering, with Carlo, who, inpatient of de-
lay. was always running ahead; but when
the boy came round the corner Of the Prcsi-
dents Square, he crossed the Avenue, and
looking up at the windows Of the wealthy,
he said, 80 how cold II is /! have nothing
in my pocket, nothing in my bag, and John
Hcngle will say 1 have spent oil have
begged to-day, and will kick me out Of doors.
O If had been born in ono Of these houses I!
How bright and warm they look! They
have rich, heavy curtains, hanging loose,
but not so close but can SEQ through the
chinks. There are two boys and three little
girls living in that house, for I have seen
them all so nicely and warmly dressed, in
cloaks and fur capcs, and mittens, and
gloves on their hands, going out to walk !;
but | have not button on my shirt nor
jacket, to keep them buttoncd. Mother
would not sew them on, and / have to hold
my jacket together oil the time. o what
Joy it must be to DO loved! To have q
sweet, kind mother to kiss, and to have
brothers and sisters to play with, and to
sleep with, in nice beds with q plenty Of
blankets, and to have Santa Claus come
down the chimney on Christmas. night, with
all sorts of pretty presents. My mother
does love me, and John Hengle hates me-
Carlo here jumped upon his master, who
now ran along till he came under tho shell
ter of a spacious mansion, when he loitered,
and, looking up, said to himself, "This is a
big house, but nobody lives here, only n
single gentleman. o ifI were but his son!
I should be happy, so happy! but there's
no place in this wide world for me. Why
was l born? Twill ask my Sunday school
teacher to tell me, If / can get my clothes
fit to go to school. Iwish had died when
I was little baby-then should have gone
to heaven now, when die, where shall I
60? To heaven? How cold the stars look!
Can heaven be up there?"
"Yes, my boy" whispered his good an
gel. "Hcavcn is on high, and you will ono
day reach its mansions of blessedncss, where
the depth of present wretchedness will en-
hancc an eternity of joy. Cheer up, and
hasten home! See, Carlo is impatient-hc
barks, runs on, and returns, and barks
again.
The little boy hastcncd onward, seeking
the shelter of the buildings On the north
side of the street, until, passing from under
the protection afforded by the "Six Build
ings," he became exposed to the sweeping
winds pouring down from the heights of
Georgetown and Kalorama. Benumbed
and bewildcrcd, he ran forward till he
reached the Circle, with its high iron fence,
and made for the gateway, to gain the di-
rect path across it, but tho iron gate would
not move chilled and despairing, he sat
himself down on the stone step. The little
dog barked, and by such eloquenco as he
could command, prayed his master to get
up and go on, but the boy needed him not.
The guardian angel whispered him to rise
and hurry homewards-not to 60 to sleep,
on the peril of his life. To all these moni-
tions and promptings, the boy murmurcd
his evening prayer:
"Now lay me down to-seep,
pray tie Lord-iny soul 10 keep;
m should dl.-before | wake,
! pray the Lod-my soul TO take"
The angel could do no more, His inau-
ence failed to move the soul of the boy
With earnest scrutiny, he looked in upon
the boy, whose thoughts Qikc figures
thrown upon n screen passed under the in
spoction of tho angel. Already was the
boy among the sunny days of his childhood
birds were singing in the trees, and but
tcraies Of inconceivablo beauty were Autter-
Ing about from flower to flower, for no was
in beautiful garden, and music filled the
air. The angel well know his boys hour
had come, but there was no murmur in his
seraph-soul against Gods inscrutablc provi.
denco. He had witnessed the many misc
ries Of his charge with the intense sympathy
of his angelic nature, but he could say, Il
can wait The Judge of all the earth will
do right"
To him the future was oil unknown, but
he well knew the Messenger Of the Highest
would soon be at his side. And, as the
pulse of tho boy was auttering, he listened
II, perhaps, some bclated citizen would come
spec My, and yet rcsuscitate the dying child.
But no sound was heard, but the soughing
of the winds through the distant forest trees