Squatter sovereign., 1856-08-05
listella,leolls,
SARAH GOODWIN AND HER BOYS.

York. She was not wholly friendless, but
those whom she knew, and who would
have aided her in her struggles, were very
poor, and could not. So she, widow
with four boys. from the ages Of four to
nine years. struggled through winters cold
and summers heat, provided her little
family with bread, and that's all.
Meat and luxuries were denied Sa, ah
Goodwin and her boys. The latter were
good children. always in their homes after
nightfali, and giving their mother every
cent Of their little earnings as often as they
found work to do.
AT last the mother fell sick, and through
a weary illness she had no other attend
ance, save the occasional help of a neigh
Dor, and the constant aid of her DO,
They were never from her side, and it was
touching to behold their sympathy, their
gentle ministrations; everybody prophesied
that they would be blessed in coming
years for their thoughtful kindness towards
their mother.
The widow recovered, bat it was now
the heart of bitter winter, and their little
stock Of fuel was nearly gone. AS soon
as her strength permitted, she walked
through the cold one cherries day to the
shop Of her employer, and told him her
pitiiul story.
But it was hard times; her illness had
made room for others as destitute as her.
self; in fine, they had not one stitch of
work to give her.
With sinking heart, but praying to
keep her courage up, the poor woman
toiled on from one shop TO another until it
became late, and what with her tears and
darkness, she could hardly see her way
home.
"If Mr.. Hart himself had been there -
she sollloquized. bending to the strong
wind. and drawing her scanty shawl closer
about her form, 81 knew he would have
given me work."
AS she whispered thus through her
chattering teeth. tall man, with long
grey beard, passed her. and as he did so,
something fell to the sidewalk, and laid
upon the crusted snow.
Sarah paused; she had heard the noise
made by the little packet. and mysterious
impression led her to search for it. o,
JOY! it was purse, heavy and filled to the
brim. Yellow and shining laid the gold
within its strong meshes, as she carried it
towards lighted window.
"My poor boys shall want food no
more" she calculated, fervenily; "this is
gold-gold! God put it my way. He
saw l was despairing."
Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, the
thought occurred to Sarah that not one
cent oil the new-found treasure was honest
ly hers. But a moment shc fingered,
pressing the money with her numbed fing-
ers. the sorrowful tears pressing down her
thin cheeks; then starting forward to find
the owner ofthe purse, she walked hurried
ly up the street, fearful that the temptation,
should she arrive at her poor room and see
her hungry children, might prove too
strong for her integrity.
Opposite the great hotel, as she stood
hesitating what way to take, she saw the
stranger enter. She knew him by his long
singular beard; and timidly crossing the
street. she made her way into the billiard
hall, and there, bewildered by the light,
knew not what to say or do, till twice
asked by servant what she wanted.
OF course. she could do no more than
described the stranger by his tall statue
and strange beard. But he had already
gone out again; she must call on the NOR
row. they said, and ask for Mr.. Ash
croft.
The next morning, having eaten MOTH
ing, for she could not touch farthing of
the gold. she was admitted into the room
where sat the stranger. He arose as she
entered, and gazed with curious air till
she presented the purse. Then he started
with pleasured surprise. laid down his pa
per. took the gold. and deliberately counted
it over.
Il. is all safe." he said; "you have not
taken"
"Nos one piece, sirr' she cried, eager
ly, trembling az she stood.
"Ynn seem poor," !" remarked the strang-
| er, earelessly.
81 am poor" she replied.
"Got a family. supposes"
ssFour little bows. sir: am widows