The Tiffin tribune. [volume] (Tiffin, Ohio) 1848-1859, 1857-08-21
From the Springfield Republican.
The Little Tin Pals.

a person cannot walk through .hs quiet.
est street in the city without meeting
men, each with n little Tin pail In his
hand. As the bearer swings il nj his
side, and raps il against his large buttons,
one can readily know that il is empty
Where has he been? One may not be
able to SEQ anything in the pail, but. after
all It has pleasant story in Il. Before
the breakfast things are washed and out
away, i is placed upon the table by
good industrious woman who rose before
the sun to prepare the morning meal and
baIhe and dress her children. IIor hands
aud feet have been busy all the morning.
aud now she stops all other work 10 see
the laboring husband off to work, and
prepare his noon meal for him. The
bread and meat. the large piece Of pie,
the ginger bread and riokles, and perhaps
some dainty bit which she has saved for
The man she loves, are placed In tho little
tin pail, one after another, until il is full,
and the lid placed snugly on. He, the
laborer stands by aud looks on. When
all Is finished, he gives kiss 10 the young
est says pleasant good morning 20 his
wife. takes his pail in his hand, and away
he goes,
From that time he disappears for the
day. No one asks whero lie goes, aud
few know. He swings the hainmer, or
pushes tho plane; or practices SONS other
handicraft, in doors or out. He tolls all
day for bread aud clothing for himself
and family, His arms are strong, his
heart is courageous, and his mind content.
The rioh roll by in theiI carriages, but
he cares Lot Gay idiors attract his eye
for a moment but he despisas them.-
When noon timo comes, and tho long
whistles sound ut tho shop, he drops his
work, and opens his little tin pail. Down
goes the meat with the true seal. and the
bread tastes as sweet as mamma, for he has
the health that labor brings. AT last he
reaches the bottom, aud his eyes moist
on as he sees there piece Of fruit. or
some little delicacy, which the kind wife
had smuggled In unknow to him--some-
thing which had cost her self-denial.--
Isn't that a sweet meal? With his appe-
tite, and with the sweet. associations which
embalm il, Il is a feast for the gods.
The whistle sounds again, and agaia
the strong hands and courageous heart
are at work, The day is now upon the
wane, but he grows little weary, for there
is warm place in his heart that feeds
the fre on which willing labor depends.
His eyes are lifted TO the olook hour
after hour, during pauses in his labor,
and down falls the tardy index, until, at
last, the stroke Of six rings out, and the
whistle Of release for the day gives its
Welcome blast Before him are twelve
blessed hours Of rest -
The rough hands are washed, the shirt
sleeves rolled down and buttoned. the
coat put on, the little tin pail taken from
its hiding place. aud he is in the street
again. Now We meet him. Now the
streets are full Of the little tin pails.-
They are carried by men who have sell
respect, who live manly lives, aud carr
their bread, aud owe not any man, -
The little tin pals ring oarelessly at theiI
side, the celebration Of the days labor
aohieved--of hard money hardly won.--
A thousand children run 10 meet the
little tin pals. and beg the privilege Of
carrying them into houses and tenements
scattered all over tho city. In Eve hun
dred Of these, the table is ready set out,
and at the fire sets the newly dressed wife
and the Kissing teapot, awaiting the hus-
bands return. Behold the family group
gathering around the evening boardl--
Before these healthy sppetites how quick
ly the yiauds disappeari And then, the
good wife washes the tea things where
they stood. and the little tin pale is clean
Iy wiped out and polished off for the next
days service. Thus. and thus again
the days 60 round, with long sweet SLEEP
between.
"Toiliag-reiOicing borrowing