The Jeffersonian. [volume] (Stroudsburg, Pa.) 1853-1911, 1858-08-05

Don't you see you are not wanted here?
The voice seemed to strike responsive
chord in the rich IN an $ heart; surely be hat
heard its mild tones before. He PARTIAL,
opened the door and called out sternly
'Mr. Waters, show the gentleman in
if you please
The abasbed clerk obeyed, not withou
surprise, and the bowed old man, will
his heavy basket Of Strawberries, came
bumbly into the private room of the grea
banker.
/ will you take chairl' politely in
quired Mr.. Arnet, moving forward lux
urious tauteuil
The old man took off his hat apologet
ically.
Sir, fear that I intrude on your val
liable time, II you would buy some Of
my fruit-necessity, you know is strong,
and my poverty is extreme. was not
always in such a position.
Mr.. Arnet- watched the proud turn oI
that gray head, with singular smile;
then sitting down to bis desk. he wrote
off check and handed it across the
table.
'One thousand dollars! faltered the old
man as he read, turning red and white in
breath. He held it towards the bank
er.
Sir, hoped you were too much of a
gentlemen to make sport of age and dis
tress. Is there anything for you to jest
about in my want?'
Not at all, sir. You spoke Of a sick!y
daughter. | have cottage vacant, just
outside of the city, with fountain,
grounds and an observatory. If you
aud your daughter will occupy it, rent
free, shall be very glad to have you take
care of it for me-
The old man stood white and breath
less, as in dream. In a moment his
hand was taken in the clasp of the great
banker.
'My friend, my benefactor, you have
forgotten me, but my youthful memory is
stronger than yours. Is it possible that
you have no remembrance of me!'
The old man shook his head.
yet it is folly to expect it, when I am
so changed. Listen sir he resumed,
with bright earnest smile: have you "a
ny recollection of forlorn boy, on a
crowded pier, whose little all was scatter
ed by rude blow! Have you forgotten
his distress! Have you forgotten that
kind and generous stranger stopped to
comfort him, not only by money, but by
cheering words!'
is it possibls!' stammered out the old
man.
Yes, it is possible; I am that forlorn
boy. Your money, which that night sup
piled my dying sister with luxuries and
pleasures, proved the stepping stone to
my princely wealth. Sir, | was ragged,
friendless boy, but my heart treasured up
your kind words as priceless jewels; and
now the time has come when l may, in
some measure, repay them with interest. ,
The old man moved his pale lips. as
though be would speak; but the banker
resumed instantly:
Il am alone in the world; my mother
is dead, and my little sister, whose last
words we're of your kindness, has gone,
years ago. to her eternal home. I owe
everything to you; and now have "a
Vor to ask
"A favor, and of me'
That you will henceforth allow me to
provide for you, and consider me as your
son. My carriage is at the door. and will
take you wheresoeVer you may choose to
90. But a moment first
He took tiny volume from bis breast,
which was bound in faded velvet, with
claspings of tarniShed gilt
This book was my dead sisters Bible;
it lay on her pillow when she died. and
since that hour it has been my constant
companion. There is passage here that
has ever been present to my mind since
your kind deed gave hope and courage to
my life.
ae opened the volume, and through
soft mist of grateful tears, the old man
read the Scripture words:
Cast uty bread upon the s0aters; Jor thou
shut G'ad 1t after many days.