Ashtabula weekly telegraph. [volume] (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1853-1873, 1862-05-10

There ia no anguish now. Perhaps God
saw he had borne oil he could, and so took
the poor little broken heart there TO heal.
How very white and quiet Oh o sweet
face-a sweet, sweet facet murmured the
woman, bending over the boy; and tears
fell upon his forehead, but he did not feel
them.
Oh, the poor little boy | sobs Nelly, the
poor little boy l wish he had kept on
the sidewalk l wish be had stad at home
with his mother.
Alas in this world there was no moth
er to keep him.
The doctor came, said he was not dead,
but would very likely die. There was an
hospital near The poor thing had better
be sent there. But the good woman would
not allow that. She said he had been in.
jured by one of her horses, and she felt it
was her duty to attend to him. Besides it
was quite likely the child had no mother.
Such boy as he, with face so sweet and
girlisb, SO pure and loveable, would never
be sent on the streets like that if he had
mother. No, no; it was not in her heart
TO put the poor wounded boy away. Let
him stay whether be lived or died.
The weary, weary days passed on. One
morning, the little boy opened his dim blue
eyes, but he did not know himself His
glance fell wcariy on his hands. There
were white bands around his wrists, with
ruffles on them The bed was snowy white,
too, and crimson light fell over every
thing.
Dear Lord, he murmered, am in hcav.
en-. God will take care of me now.
What visions of lovinesS glanced forth
rich curls fell around face of exquisite
beauty The beaming eyes looked love and
gladness upon him,
Oh, yes, there is an angel he said soft
y. am glad They won't knock me
over again | shall not be asked to steal
apples here and perhaps | shall never die
again. Now, want to see my mother
My dear boy, ATE you better this morn
ing asked low, soft voice
He turned slowly-weariIy.
Is it mother he murmured.
Oh, yes, and there were q1ick sobs and
tears yes my little child / will he your
mother, and you shall be my son. Will
you love me
Yes, do love you. mother is it heaven
Heaven no, dear, it is earth but God
sent you here to our hearts, and you shall
be loved and cared for. Sec, here is lit
lie sister, and you will be very happy with
her.
The past was not forgortten, but it was
gone. No more mouldy crusts, no more
harsh words, and blows. No more fear of
rude children no more sleeping on door
steps. and listening to the drunken quarrels
Of the vicious and depraved.
Yes the past was gone and the rosy
future were love, home and God and the
angels. Certainly sweet spirits had guard
ed that child, and guided him out of seem
ing evil into positive good. Surely, hence
forth he would put his hand trustingly in
theirs, and turn bis face heavenward. Yes,
it was so to be. The dear teachable child
"a jewel picked from the mire, brand
snatched from the burning-was yet to H.
lumne the dark paths of this world with
his holy, heavenly teaching. Like dove
he was to go fourth over the waters, and
find the Olvehranch with which TO garland
his glad tidngs
Blessings, then, on all who make their
homes a refuge for needy and destitute chill
dren. Beautiful stars shall they have in
their crowns Of rejoicing, for surely there is
no jewel brighter in all the world. and per-
haps in all eternity, than the soul Of a
little child.