Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1857-08-06
Gbeite gMtiistenallp.
The Little Tin Pals.

At about six O'Clock in the afternoon, q
passenger cannot walk through the quietest
streets in the city without meeting men
each with little tin pail in his hand As
the bearer swings it at his side, and raps il
against his large buttons, one can readily
know it is empty! Where has he been!--
What has he been doing! What is the
pail forl One may not be abe to see any,
thing in the pail, but, after all it has pleas.
ant story in it. Early in the morning that
pail is filed. Before the break asst things
are washed and put away, it is placed upon
the table by good and industrious woman
who rose before the sun, 10 prepare the
morning meal and bathe and dress the chill
dren Her fingers and feet have been very
busy ali the morning and now she stops al
other work to see the laboriDg husband of
to his work. and prepare his noon meal foI
him. The bread, and meat, the large piece
of pie, the gingerbread, the pickles. and
perhaps some dainty bit which she has saved
for the man she loves, are placed in the lit.
tie tin pail, one after another, until it is
full. and the lid snugly on. He, the laborer
stands by and looks on. When all is finish.
ed, he gives kiss to the youngest, says q
pleasant good morning 10 wife. taxes his
pail in his hand and away he goes.
From that time he disappears Tor the day
No one asks where he gues, and but few
know. He swings the BANNER or pushe:
the plane, or practices sOme other handi.
craft, in doors or out. He tolls all day fol
bread and clothing for himself and family
His arms are strong, his heart is courage
Gus, and his mind content The rich ride
in their carriages, but he cares moi. WheE
noon time comes, and the whistle sounds al
the shops, he drops his work and opens the
little tin pail The meat is eaten with true
zest, and the bread tastes as sweetly a;
mama, for he mas the health which labor
brings. AT last he reaches the bottom, ant
his eyes moisten as he sees there piece O
fruit or some little delicacy which the kint
wife has smuggled in unknown TO him
something which has cost her self-Genal
Isn't that a sweet meal! With his appetite
and with the sweet associations which EN-
balm it, it is feast for the gods.
The whistle sounds again, and again thu
strong hands and courageous hearts are a
work The day is now upon the wane, bu
he grows little weary, ior there is warn
place in his heart feeds the fire on whicl
his willing labor depends. His eye is lifte
to the clock, hour after hour, during th
pausss in his labor, and down falls the tard,
index, until, at last, the stroke of six run
out, and the whistle of release for the da
gives its welcome blast. Before him ar
twelve or fourteen blest hours of restI tn
rough hands are washed, the shirt sleeve
rolled down and buttoned, the coat put On
the little tin gail taken from its hiding place
and he is in the street agan. Now we NEE
him Now the streets are full of little ii
pals. They are carried by men who hav
se!f-resPec., who live many lives, who earn
and "Owe not any man." The little ii
pail rings cnrelessly at their side, the cele
bration OF days labor achieved-Of liar
money hardly earned.
A thousand children run to meet the Ii,
tie tin pals, and beg the privilege of carry
ing them into houses and tenements scatter
ed oil over the city. In many hundreds {
these, the table is already set ont, at tn
fire sits the neatly dressed wife, and tn
! Kissing teapot awaiting the husbands re
turn. Behold the family group ga'herin