The weekly Ottumwa courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1857-1872, 1860-07-26
The Beggar Roy.

Get away with you, you dirty little beg.
gar-boy. I'd like to know what right you
have to look over the fence at our flowers
The speaker was little boy not moro
! than eleven years old, though people called it
handsome, his face looked very disagreeable
just then. He stood in beautiful garden,
just in the suburbs of the city ; and it was in
June, and the tulips were opening themsel-
YES to the sunshine. Oh. it was a great
Joy to look at them as they bowed graceful
| ly to the light, with their nccks of crimson,
of yellow, and carnation. The beds fianked
on either side Of the path that curved
around a small arbor, where the young grape
clusters that lay hidden among the large
leaves wrote beautiful prophecy for the au-
tumn.
white paling ran in front Of the garden
and over this the little beggar-boy, SO rudely
| addressed was leaning. He was very thin.
very dirty, and very ragged. l am afraid
you would have turned away in disgust from
SO repulsive'a spectacle; and yet God and
the angles loved him!
| He was looking, with all his soul in his
| eyes, on the beautiful blossoms as they
swayed to and fro in the summer wind, and
his heart softened while he leaned his arm on
the fenoe-raif,ng, and forgot everything in
that long absorbed gaze. All! it was seldom
the beggar-boy saw any that was either very
good or beautiful, and it was sad his dream
should nave such rude awakening
The blood rushed up to his face, and
glance fnll of evil and defiance rushed into
his eyes. But before the boy could retort,
little girl sprang out of the arbor and hooked
eagerly from one child to the other. She
was very fair, with soft, hazel eyes, over
which dropped long, shining lashes. Rich
curfs hung over her almost bare white shoul.
ders, and her lips were the color of the Grim
son tulip blossom.
How could you speak so cross to the boy,
Hinton p she asked, with tone of sad re-
proach quiverin through the sweetness of
her voice I'm sure it doesn't do us any
| harm to have him look at the flowers if he
| likes
'Well Helen, urged her brother, slightly
modified and ashamed, Il don't like to have
beggars gaping over the fence it looks SO
| low
Now, that's a notion Of yours, Hinton
I'm sure, if the flowers can do anybody any
good, we ought to be very glad Little boy
and the child turned to the beggar, and ad-
dressed him as corteously as though he had
been prince, I'll pick you some Of the tu-
lips if you'll wait a moment
Helen, do believe you are the funniest
| girl that ever lived ~ circulated the child's
brother as he turned away, and with low
whistle sauntered down the path, feeling very
uncomfortable for her conduc. was stron-
ger reprof to him than any words could have
been.
Helen plucked one of each specimen Of
tulips and there was great variety ofthem
and gave them to the little child. His face
frightened as he received them and thanked
her.
| Oh! the little girl had dropped pearl Of
great price into the black, turbid pillows of
the boys life, and the after years would bring
it up fair and beautiful again!
Twelve years had passed. The little blue
eyed girl had grown into tall, graceful wo-
man. One bright June afternoon she walk
ed with her husband through the garden,
for she was on a visit to her parents. The
place was little changed, and the tulips had
opened their lips ofcrimson and gold to tho
sunshine just as they had twelve years be-
fore.
Suddenly they observed young man in
workman's blue over-alls, leaning over the
fence, his eyes following eagerly from tho
beautiful flowers to herself. He had frank
pleasant countenance, and there was some
tleman and lady,
Look here, Edward said she, IN pluck
some of the flowers 1t always does mo
good to see people admiring them And
then releasing her husbands arm, she ap-
preached the pail lg saying-and the smile
around her lips was very much like the old,
} child one Are you fond of flowers sir p
1t will give me great pleasure to gather you
some
The young workman looked moment
very earnestly into the fair, sweet face.
Twelve years ago this very month, he
said, in voice deep, and yet tremulous with
feeling, Il stood here, leaning on this railing,
dirty, ragged little boy, and you asked me
this very question. Twelve years ago you
placed the flowers IN my hand and they made,
me new boy F.; ay, and they made a man Of
me- too. Your face has been a light, ma'an
all along the dark hours Of my life, and this
day that little beggar boy can stand on the
old place and say to you, though he's an
: humble and hard-wosking man yet, thank
God, he's an honest one
Teardrops trembled like the morning dew
on the shining lashes of the lady as she
turned to her husband, who had joined her;
and listened in absorbed astonishment 10 the
workman's words.
God said she. put it in my child heart
to do that deed Of kindness, and see how
very great is the. reward he has given to
! me-
And the setting sun poured food OF
rich, purple light over the group that stood
there; over the workman in his blue over
alls over the lady with the golden hair; and
over the proud looking gentleman at her side
} Altogether it was picture for painter, the
angels who looked down from heaven saw
something moro than a picture there.