Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1858-07-15
THE LOST PURSE.

not long since, which I think is worth
selling over. The parties of whom he
poke were near by, and it was the pre-
eence of the hero that called the cir
eumstance to mind.
Abel Morton was a youth of about
seventeen. His mother was d widow,
and he an only child. They lived in
part Of a small hut in the outskirts Of
the village, and were very poor. During
the long cold winter, the widow had been
quite sick, so that Abel had been obliged
10 spend most of his time with her. The
youth had never learned any trade, as
various circumstances had combined to
prevent his leaving home. He worked
whenever he could get work to do, and
thus far managed to find food enough to
keep himself and his mother alive,
ahough they suffered much with cold.
As the spring opened, Abel tried to
Ind work, but was not successful. He
Gcked up few odd jobs, now and then,
kut the proceeds were barely sufficient
Dpurchase enough of the coarsest, cheap
!. food. Clothing the could not buy,
nd poor Abel began to fear that he
must beg a suit of clothes, or what was
worse, leave his mother. But the latter
be could not do.
Ose afternoon ne went into the village
and spent several hours in hunting for
work, but he found nothing to do. Some
seemed to turn away because he looked
so ragged, while others said they never
employed any one outside Of their own
households. Faint and sick at heart,
Abel bent his steps homeward. He had
left the village, and was turning into the
the narrow lane that led to his home.
when he detected something peculiar up
on the road side. He picked it up and
found it to be small knit purse. 1t was
quite heavy, and the jingle of the con-
tents was too sharp and clear for cop
per.
The poor youth did not stop to open
it then, for it was already dusk, and he
knew that his mother would be anxious
So with a strangely beating heart be hur-
ried homeward. He entered the little
room where his mother was sitting, and
sank down in chair.
Alas no work. the widow murmur'
ed as she saw the cloud upon the boy't
kce.
NO he replied, tried all around
but it was no USE
Never mind, Abel. God is good
We shall not suffer as those do who hav,
no trust in Him
But how does He help US, mother:
asked Abel, in faltering voice.
In many ways, my son. He has pre-
served US through many trials, and ha
given US hope and courage. He ha
preserved to me a true and virtuou
child, and has held US clear from man
sufferings which afiict our fellows
Look at Mrs. TyDdal see her with a
her wealth, suffering tortures that
would not suffer for worlds. See he
only son, a poor, miserable inebriate, an
in prison for drunken crime. Fc
what would we exchange our noble col
sciousness of right and honor!'
Abel made no reply. There had bee
something bearing down heavily upo
his soul-something which lay IN h
pocket and sent forth serpent song
plenty. But the load was removed. T
drew the purse from his pocket and la
it upon the table by his side.
What is that ? said the widow,
she heard the sharp clink of the coin.
A purse-I found it on the road.
Found it? Oh, did you find it ?
Yes, my mother. In the road, ju
at the turn of our lane. 1t lay in tt
foot path
A candle was lighted, and the pur
emptied. 1t contained twenty silver HI
dollars.
Ten dollars whispered Abel. Pc
haps we can find who lost it.
Isn't there some name on the purs
asked his mother.
She took it as she spoke, and up
inside of the clasp, which was lined W
red morocco, she read, John Thon
son.
John Thompson was one Of the we
thiest men in that place. He owned
very large farm and besides SUPPLY
large amount of milk to customers,
raised large quantities of garden SAT
and fine fruit, which he sent to neis
boring city.
sOh! how easy he could spare
,vb;gr.-o1 AhaI gI+ -pouId he M I