Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1868-12-23

put his hand IN his pocket, took out
greenback and offered it to the child
saying. j
The child looked down. Her face
was very red. Suddenly she seemed tc
take rcsolution-she looked up and
said, :,
ooh, sir it's FIVE dollars It would
buy mamma everything. She is sick,
you know, and I ought to be home this
minute; it was so wrong of me to stop
here. If you please, sir, I'd much rath-
er spend it for her, she said, rapidly
and incoherently.
$50 you shall, dearl Hurry home
now, at any rate; but first tell me
where you live ?" a4
"We live in Carpenter street, Nc; 20.
And I may keep the fyaasQllsrs may
I, sir?'
Certainly. YOU shall haxo,s7doll,, |,
too. Twill bring myself, to-morrowA1s
Oh!syiH-you, sir ?" she interrupted,
her eyes dancing.
With these words, she gathered her
thin shawl about her and hurried away.
The gentleman, who had carried on
this conversation with Lucy, took the
arm of his companion again, and said,
How all this brings back; the past
to mel You have often heaDa me speak
of Hetty Moss. suppose, she is dead
long agoy he added, with q sigh, cor
married, which, for me, is worse, But
at sixteen she was the loveliest creature
have ever seen. I never shall forget
the day, after my father and mother
had been buried, that I went 10 see her,i
intending, even then, to go away and
try my fortunes, but, expecting that she
would bid me God speed, and that her
father, who had always been kind to
me. would do the same. All, Charley !
we must all, sooner or later, learn hard
lessons; and I learned my first cruef
one that afternoon. The old man met
me himself. Well, I won't dwell on its
H declined to let me see Hetty called
me beggars brat, worse, the child of
a bankrupt, and babe me begone. Ever
since then have had less faith in hu5
man nature.
"No, you haven't, answered his
friend, bluntly. You think you have
But, old fellow, you arc too good to
talk such nonsense, and, please God !;
you'll be happy yet, though not with.
Hetty. - 81
MY first task, now that am rieh,3
I" will be to get on the traces, if ISctlff;S
of poor Lucy. After l left America, |
continued to write for years, but never
getting any answer, I finally gave-it up.
Christmas once over, l shall start for the
old homestead; but l fear all clue to
her is lost.
Meantime, Lucy was hurrying home,
feeling herselfa q new being. In spite
of the snow, her bare feet, her cold,
numb fingers, we question if there was
a happier child in the city.
"Sce, mother OH, see!" she cried,
when she got home, with great sob of
happiness, we shall have some Christ
mas, after all gentleman gave it me,
and said it was five dollars Oh, moth
er! motherl I'm SO happy five whole
dollars to spend for Christmas Why,
l never heard OF such thing" and her
face fairly glowed. Z" Isn't it "a mir
acle, mamma sssess'
NV dear child, it seems like one. T.
said her mother, holding out her wasted
hand, and regarding the money.
The sad, sweet, wasted face lighted
up7slth glow of thankfulness as she
listened to the little narrative.
"Oh, mydgling' she cried, it was
sent for shoes ahd0stockings for your
poor feet. cried to sesyou go out in
to the snow to-day; and prayed in
agony to the dear Lord to help us and
this is the answer"
"But l don't want the shoes, mamma,
I want Christmas" said Lucy, with a.
disappointed face. :" He told me to goj
in andebuy toys. We never did havea1
Christmas, and, I wanted to see howft
seems.
Very soon there:mas a loud knock at
the door; and when It opened, in
came two stout men with ahasaormous
bas' .et between them, and put i down;
..nd there it sat looking up intp the Sad- Sasd
ow's face, with great, round eyes OF. peF
tatoes and squashes, and bulBing pack
ages that told of plenty. "a
!" Who is this for?' asked Lucy'g
mother, quite pale, !.
It's for a widow blythe name of
Pettigrew.
{" But who sent it?"
81 don't know who eht it-iS's paid
for, that's all 1 care about"
The door shut, the mef had vanished.
"Oh, mother we're (reaming-just
as sure as you live we're dreamingl"
cried the delighted chile, dancing about
the basket. 8Why, there's everything
there; why, the Lord keeps working
miracles, don't he ?"
Call Hetty Moss, child" said her
mother, sinking back h her chair, quite
overcome and preseltly Hetty came
in, staid, sweot-loohng woman, not
over thirty, with soft dewy blue eyes,
and lips that always BOXED smiling.
Why, Lucy, you le been your moth
er's good angel to7 lay" said Hetty,
stopping over the bal llset and lifting the
packages. Sure ell rpugh, here's Christ
mas for you" and she took an enor-
nous turkey from tie basket.
There was anothg knock at the door,
and tall man enteE ed, and stood there