The Hillsborough recorder. [volume] (Hillsborough, N.C.) 1820-1879, 1867-05-01

birds and flowers, and all the attributes
that 80 10 make up happy home. All,
did sayf Not aii-we were childless.
Little Pearl had never come back, and God
had given no other child to fill her place
but We desired no ether; our grief forlher
loss being dearer and more sacred than any
new love could ever have been. III
Poor Ned that unforgotten sorrow, to-
gether with his ardusus duties. made him
an old man before his time the silver
threads were thick on his temples. and the
furrows on his forehead deeply cut when
we went back on visit to our old house,
the friends Of his youth did not recognize
him. His life had lost its impelling aim
and motive. tH As
One night. in the great city. we were
returning from the opera when a voice
startled us.
| /" Please. sir" it said. - penny to buy
loaf" B m
| Il was mid winter; the pavements were
glazed with ice; and the countless stars
overhead glitiered in the cold blue sky like
50 many points of steel. was dreaming
Of my home in the far West, and longing
for the hour Of my return TO come. A
strange feeling Of tenderness bound me to
the spot where had lost my Little Pearl.
could not bear to be away from il, be-
cause of foolish fear that she might come
back, and not be there TO welcome her.
The slender. pleading voice brokein up
on my revere and glancing out at the car
risge window, saw small. childish f.
gure, and tiny hand, blue and stiff with
cold.
Stop the carriage, Ned; / shan't close
my eyes to-nightif we pass that child"
My husband started up IRON bis half doze
and obeyed me. ..a .t. b
i /. What do you wan, p he asked kindly.
bending over and taking the child's hand in
his. t"6
"a penny, please, cir, 10 buy a loaf for
!, granny she's sick"
Ned took a silver piece from his pocket.
but caught hi. arm before he bad dropped
il into the little waiting hand. Something
in the soit blue eyes, looking up so plead
ingly in the winter starlight, thrilled my
heart to ITS inmost core. lyrarned to clasp
the little shivering form to my breast, to
stroke back the tangled golden hair from
| the pallid. .want.pinched face.
j stake her up. Ned" | entreated
"she'Il freeze if we leave her here. We
can put her out wherever she lives"
i And good natured Ned, who never de.
MED me a thing in his life, complied.
Dawn dark and unfrequented streets into
one Of the lowest haunts OF vice and power
~ then she guided Us up long flight OF
stairs into cherries attick. An old wo-
man lay upon heap Of straw, her lace
wearing that cold, grayish hue which is the
unmistakable precursor OF death.
/" Have you come 2" she questioned
eagerly, az we entered I" gi' me the Loaf
i The child ran TO her side and began 70
stroke back her gray hair. :,
"a good lady and gentleman's come'
she lisped softly.
il !" I'm glad yer come" she said, address
ing Ned. Elm going, you see and some
cne oughter look arter her. pointing to the
child. "She's goud little thing. I've had
her wi me sir years. come next winter.
She ain, mine. though. ] got her IRON
squad u lnIuns when w "" "an
Hat boat down the Mississippi. They'd
stole her from some one, and brung her by
our cabin; aud she was such putty little
thing that the old man an me struck trade
for her. l alters kept her clothes. the one
she had on, in case her friends might know
her, if they overturned up ;.but they didn't
Now I'm goin'. She'll be LETT to herself.
You might look srter her ma'am' coulans
yerf" . -,
j !" where ere the clothes she had orr
asked Ned and I, eagerly, and IN the same
breath.
She looked into my face inquirinsly. and
then pointed TO an old trunk. Ned broke
il open. There they were, 20 iadeu
heap, the dainty embroidered slip, The u