The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1859-09-15

other beggars who had appealed to her for aid.
/ True, she had not done more for him than for
those Others perhaps-but did she feel towards
them as she did towards this boy9 Would She
IN the morning, or as soon as he was able to
walk, see Oscar depart provided with money
| perhaps, and clothes, as had done those Others
| who had aroused her sympathies? No-she
felt she would not permit that. She felt that
her interest in him was such that she wished to
provide for him--to stand IN loco PARENTS to-
wards him. And she could not satisfy herself
as to the cause OF this interest could not be GER
tai ! that it was wise or reasonable What if
he were actually an impostor-what if. after
doing all she could for him, he should repay
her with the ingratitude so common with those
In his circumstances No--she would enter
tain no such thought. Imposition or ingrati-
tude could not by any possibility belong to the
| possessor of that face. So much was certain.
| But what did she intend to do-what would
people say? She formed numerous plans built
many air-castles, but could not come to any
definite conclusion, further than resolve to
| keep him there for time, and see what pro.
vision could be made for him. If he had
friends, she could find them out. If he was
unworthy, she could dismiss him. And if he
proved all she hoped, why, there would be no
need to trouble about provision for him. Her
parents were old-she needed eompanion-a
brother-she would never marry--long ago she
had determined as to that And if Oscar we're
the boy she thought him, to look after his edu-
cation, and make a noble man of him, was lust
the employment she felt herself to be in need
| OF. Anyhow, it would cost nothing to take
care him for a week-she could have him
| watched, and-it was only Christian act to
cast her bread upon the waters.
| Pleasant dreams, Miss Betsy
" Father, we must find some work for
him to do" said Lizzie at the breakfast table
| next morning.
| But, Betsy, there's no work to give him.
we've got all the force we want now, and more
than enough, for that matter You can keep
him here until he's WELL but don't see the use
OF hiring when you don't need it,
Nevertheless, we must give him work. He
is too proud and Independent to eat the bread
OF charity, and he must not be turned away
from our doors, if we can help him without in
Juring ourselves. If you won't employ him,
will do so myself. My garden is full of weeds
since the last rain, and you know you refused
to let me have Jim to work it, no longer ago
than yesterday. So / will have my own gar
dener."
And thy own way too, Betsy dear. Is it
not so? Very we'll, then but come, 90 with
me, and we will see this prodigious youth of
| euihC, Gnu Idih Will MIN.
The result of the conversation must have
prepossessed the old man in Oscars favor, for
that afternoon, in compliance with suggestion
OF his, the tailor of the neighborhood was sent
| for, and took Oscars measure for a suit of
clothes, while Priscilla piled busy needle in
the manufacture of half dozen coarse muslin
shirts for " the new boy" as he was called.
While these articles of raiment were being
| RI oy0t oAv -, IoJ
spite of his circumstances. Lizzie knew best !;
his feet were still bruised and sore, and he had
an ague, which might be hard to cure, unless
taken in hand at once. 1t was only his fear of
being troublesome that made him u. gent to get
about, she knew very well, and she was deter
mined to have her own way in the matter. Du-
ring those four or FIVE days she was in his room
| frequently, giving him medicine, seeing how he
did, taking his meals to him, &c. She had no
prudery, was as free as innocent, and thought
OF him, and acted towards him as if he were
child. In this way she saw great deal of
him and learned the whole of his history. 1t
was an ordinary taic of misfortune and poverty,
heightened somewhat by the fact of the victims
being untitled by superior refinement to endure
Its hardships with ordinary powers. His father
was Swede, a man of education, letters, gen.
ius perhaps, and an artist, but man entirely
untitled for active life, by an utter deficiency of
business talent. He had originally been man
OF some property, had followed art rather as an
amateur than professionally and it was only
when, after his return from Italy and his mar
rage, mistortunes came upon him, and he lost
his property through the dishonesty of his
agents, that he had turned to it as a means OF
maintenance. Too proud to live at home, he
had displayed his want of judgment by emf
grating to new country, where the necessity
to live yet so supreme that art had no ex
istence. They eked out their slender means as
best they could, the wife toiling with her needle
and the husband collecting few dollars here
and there, now by painting cheap portrait,
now by the establishment of signs, and again
by panelling, teaching drawing, and other mis-
cradle flag ends of his profession. They had
done what they could for Oscar, and had tried
to fit him for more successful work than had
fallen to their share. But, Just as he was grow
ing old enough to profit by their example and
| warning, the wearisomeness of their mistaken
life conquered them. The mother died first
and next year the father succumbed-both kill
ed by er-work-involuntar suicides, to speak
in paradox, for the sake of a most pitiful ex-
istence. What little money was in his fathers
pocket when he died-at wayside tavern,
where he had stopped for the night, he and his
son being son tramp" in quest of work
procure bis father decent sepulture and tomb
stone, and it was with FIVE dollars in his pocket
that Oscar started out to make his way through
life, without single friend, foetsore and tired
already, agitated in spirit, and choking with
grief. Is it any wonder that, at the end of a
month"; he found himself penniless, and ready
to drop down upon the road But he could
not have fallen at the feet of one more charta.
bly, disposed towards all persons, or more will
ing to aid him particularly than Lizzie was
She melted with tender pity at thought of all
this poor boy must have gone through, and
marvelled much that he was go brave and so
cheerful, notwithstanding. Had 1t been herself,
she thought, she must have hated the whole
human race for permitting her to suffer so much,
and she could never have smiled again, But
there was humor in those soft blue eyes, she
felt sure, and many merry dimple of laughter
lurked perdu about the corners of that little
mouth. 1t would be her pleasure to test to
their full these capacities. Evidently, Lizzie
had plans that looked considerably farther than
the mere wedding of her Aower-beds, and the
trimming and training of her vines and shrub
berry.
Perhaps there was some relation between
these Interior designs and the circumstance of
her placing book in Oscars hands on one of
these days, and asking him to read to her from
it. 1t was poem by DR.. Oliver Goldsmith,
who was a favorite author Of the young ladys,
on account of his Vicar of Wakefeld"-and
the name of the poem was "The Traveller
"Remese, unfriended, solitary, slow,
| Or by the lazy Scheldt or wandering Po"-
And the young man delivered page of it with
such taste, accuracy, polish, and elegance, that
Miss Lizzie was astonished, and thought that
some of her preacher friends might learn a les
1 Al IL Al 4
read their hymns much more effectually. In
| effect abe found Oscar to be well educated