Delaware gazette. [volume] (Delaware, Ohio) 1855-1886, 1865-06-09
THE DLAMOND RING.

1t was the night before Christmas.
Mr.. Almayne did not observe the little
blue nosed boy, crouching by the brill
iantly illuminated platr glass window, as
he sprang out of his carriage and went
into the thronged shop.
How should he? But little Ben Har-
rows eyes, eager with the sickly glare of
extreme poverty, took in every detail of
the rich mans equipage, and his purple
fingers clasped one another as he looked.
Oh !" he thought, ''how nice it must
be to be rich-to have cushioned carr1a-
ges, and big red fires, and minced pies ev-
cry dayl Oh [ wish [ were rich !''
And Ben shrank closer into his corner
as the wind futtered his thin, worn elo-
thing, and lifted the curls with freezing
touch from his forehead.
Nor did Mr.. Almayne observe him,
when he entered his carriage, drawing on
his expensive fur gloves and leaning
among the velvet cushions with a sigh
scarcely less earnest than Ben's had
been.
The child's ideal of "big red fire.
would have been quite realized if he could
have seen the scarlet shine that ilIumin-
ated Mr., Almayne's luxurious drawing
rooms that night, glowing softly on gilded
tables. alabaster vases, and walls of f.. e
and gold-while, just before the gentle
fame, the pale Widower sat, thoughtfully
watching the hickering spires Of green
amethyst light, and very lonely in his
splendid solitude.
home just then" he murmured, idly tap
ping his feet upon the velvet rug. II
wonder what alchemy conjured up the
broken bridge, where the willow branch
es swept the waters-the bridge where
Clara Willis used to sit and study her
lesson, while l angled vainly for fishes
that never would bite? How lovely she
was, that golden haired girl, with her blue
veined forehead, and dark, downcast
eyes | was very much in love with Cla-
ra Willis, IN those boy and girl days. [
should like to know on what shore the
waves of time have cast her baruue. It
is not often a person one has known in
lang-syne vanishes so entirely and utter
| ly from one S horison. Poor Clara what
glittering air castles we built in the future
how solemnly we plighted our childish
| troths And when | came back with the
fortune of one whose golden collonades
our fairy castles of happiness upreared
its pinnacle, she was gone. And Mary
was good wife to me, and a true one
but she was not Clara Willis p
AS the thought passed through his
brain, he instinctively glanced down at
/
thai gift of his dead wife The ring was
gone
"Lost-it can't be lost !' he murmured,
trying to think when and where he had
last observed it. "Can have dropped it
from my finger without my knowledge
I must notify the police at once, and have
it advertised. Poor Mary's ring 1t
would be no mean sum p'
It was a narrow and murky little street,
with here and there dim lamp haring
feebly through the white obscurity of the
snow but little Ben Harrow knew every
one of its covered flag stones by heart,
and ran whistling down the alley way of
tall weather-stained building, undaun-
ted by wind or tempest.
See, Sis, what a jolly glove I've
found p he calculated, diving suddenly
into narrow doorway, and coming upon
osene lamp, beside which sat a young wo-
man busily at work. Halo is the fire
out2"
WRAP this old shawl around you,
Ben, said the woman looking up with a
smile that partook more of tears than OF
mirth, land you won't mind the cold Sc
much. Ali the coal is gone aud l can't
buy any more until l am paid for these
caps. Did you sell any more matches 2
Only two boxes" sighed the boy. II
was SO cold, that l couldn't go round tc
the houses"
"Well, never mind, Ben," she said
. cheerfuliy. "Sit close to me, dear-we'l i
keep each other warm. Oh Ben l shoulC