The weekly mountain Democrat. [volume] (Placerville, El Dorado County, Calif.) 1861-1862, 1861-10-26

and ] surveyed the child with enhanced
interest. Her ragged garments, her pale
face, bore very legible history-a histo.
ry Of sharp poverty and bitter suffering.
%, ] am no glad-SO very glad, sir
and the light that broke into her little
carewOrn features was beautiful to be-
hold.
] was almost sure II must he you when
the gentleman called your name, and you
look just as Willie said you did. o, sir,
7 have looked and watched, and waited
for you so many days, that had almost
given up hoping
Poor child have been out Of town,
or ] would have come to you as prom.
ised. But where is Willie now? and
what do you want with mc?'
was well nigh ashamed nlter the lat.
ter question was asked, her poverty an-
swcrcd it 30 plainly.
%, sir, Willie is sick, very sick and
his face looks so white and strange lately,
fenr he is going home to mother some
times. You see got better after you
sent me the cakes and oranges, and Willie
bought me some medicine with the mon
ey you gave us, and we paid the rent six
months, so the woman let us stay there
But one day, month ago, Willie was out
all day in the cold rain selling papers.
and he's been growing worse and worse,
and he's SO altered you'd hardly know him.
Bpt he wanted to See you so badly, and he
talks about it all the time in his sleep, and
for the last two or three days, he's grown
almost wild about it, and 80 I've been
out keeping watch for you all day and
I couldn't bear to go home at night, for
Willie would spring up in the bed and
cry out so loud. Nelly, have you seen
him = and when | shook my head, he
would lie down with such look that
would 20 off in one corner and cry all
alone, it made my heart ache so to see it.
But now Willie will be so glad o, please,
sir, won't you 60 and see himy'
see, Hattie, that your eyes are grow.
ing moist with tears, and If you could
have heard the touching pathoS with
which that fair child told her Snd story,
you would have answered as did.
YES Nelly: will go now
willie, Willie, I've brought himl I've
brought him =
The little hand which guided me so
carefully up the dilapidated stairs, was
withdrawn as the little girl broke into that
old attic chamber, her eager and Joyous
tones making the bare walls ring again
I've brought him I've brought him =
The dying daylight looked with sweet,
solemn smile into the room, whose entire
destitution one glance revealed to me. |
had not time for another, for a child's
head was lifted from n miserable mattress
in one corner. came forward, a pair Of
attenuated arms was stretched out, ami
those large, burning eyes were fastened n
moment on my face, as though life and
death rested upon Their testimony.
Yes, yes, knew you would come at
last, and the little cold arms were wrap
ped around my neck. 40, have watch
ed and prayed, and hoped SO long, and it
seemed to ne as If you would never
come; but knew you would to-day, for
last night mamma came to me, looking
so beautiful, with the flowers woven ali
around her head, and white robe flow
ing down to her feet, and she smiled 50
sweetly and said:
"'My little Willie, he will come to you
tomorrow, and his coming will be sig.
nal, for then |, too, shall come for you"
My tears were falling fast on the boys
brown curls; but sharp pnng reached
my heart as he spoke these words.
"No, no, Willie, you were only dream.
ing." said, as lifted up his head and
looked at him anxiously. One glance
into the rigid face told'mc enough the
mother had indeed come for her child.
Bend down, quick, murmurcd the boys
white lips. Nelly will be alone when
leave her; for there's nobody to take care
of her, you see, aud | want to give her to
you. You are kind and good, know you
will take care Of her, and never let her
suffer and mamma will look down from
her home in Heaven and bless you for it
all; aud maybe We shall come sometime to
take you to US. You will promise me
this, won't yOu?-quick, for | can't see
you;' and his glazing eyes wandered over
my face.
Yes. Willie, ! promise it to God, TO
your mother in Heaven, and to yOu,' |
answered S0lemnly.
Nelly, you have heard what he said
he will Mke care Of you. Kiss me once
more, little sister. There, there, mother
has come for me. Goodbyc!'
The little cold fingers sought for our
hands and drew them tOgethcr-a smile
wandered over the stark, rigid face, and
the last light Of that .Nayday looked into
that bare attic, where the beautiful child
was lying on the cold mattress.
%, sir, is he dead = questioned the little
girl. with her large, pathetic eyes wan
dcring from the dead face to my own.
My looks answered her, for my lips
could not.
'Willie, Willie, come back, come back
to me !! she cried out in voice whose
exceeding anguish will haunt my memory,
will haunt my heart till it has grown cold
as the one that then lay beneath lne, and
little Ellen Evans lay as scnselcss as her
broetcr in my arms.
Two days lAteL, in q pleasant part Of
the cemetery, the May violets were turned
aside, and a child's coffin laid beneath
them.
For nine spring tides have they laid
their crimsOned mantle over his bright
head, and the shadow Of n marble monu-
ulncnt has fallen softly over tbem. Upon
this is sculptured beautiful child, and an
angel with Outsprcad wings is bending
over him, and pointing upward. Under
meath is craven, His mother came for
him at twilight
1t was with me subject of much per-
plcXity where to place the lovely child,
whom | always felt that Providence had
especially intrusted to my care. was
all she had on earth to love. and as time
brought its soothing balm to her heart,
the whole affection of her deep, warm
nature was poured on me, and even then
with the exception Of yourself. she lay
closer within the foldings of my heart
For little while | placed her in the
country, among q simple people, whose
curiosity would be readily appensed; for I
was exceedingly desirOus that the world
should never become cognizant of the part
| had borne in her Iiie history. | read
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