The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1868-12-19

nlS lAluDR nealtn compelled MIN TO resign.
For nearly eighteen months he had fingered
were exhausted, and then, very reluctantly,
he "decared upon his club" He ought TO
have done so long before, as he was Justly
entitled to do; but from, l think, q feeling OF
false pride, he abstained, until he had hardly
a choice between that and the workhOuse.
few months afterwards be died, and the once
happy home Of the Ramsays was broken up.
What terrible change those words con-
vey none can know but the poor man and
the poor mans family. II is not sentimental
sorrow at change of place-''the old familiar
roOm"-''the tree my father planted and all
that. Il is as it were like to ship driving
from its anchor, while shoals and rocks are
about her on every side.
The poor mans 'home" has been made bit
by hit, and every object within It marks the
progress of his married life. How hard they
worked, how closely they saved, to add this
ana that to the first few necessary purchases I
With the small sum realized by their re-
naming furniture-some Of it had been sold
long ago-and the twenty pounds payable by
the club to Mrs. Ramsay as "a members
widow, the mother and daughter had to look
the world in the face Mrs. Drury's rooms
were only eight shillings week, and Martha
had hopes that she could earn something by
teaching. Mrs. Drury had kindly consented
to have printed card with the words "Day
SCHOOL, hung on the knocker during the
hours that the parlors were absent but the
bait hung many weeks without attracting a
nibble. Martha did not wait for employment
TO knock at the door, as she went every day
in search of needlework, always returning
with the same i'll success. She would gladly
have gone into service, as she had done once
during her fathers long sickness; but she was
frsgile creature, subject to recurrent attacks
Of nervous headache, which entirely pros-
trated her for time. Her mother, too, from
long mental anxiety, had become partially
paralyzed in her left arm. Do not think am
describing an imaginary case. have met
with more than one similar instance of COM
bined circumstances that contributed to the
pains Of poverty; and at times it is well to be
reminded of the suffering which is around US,
that We may be more LIBERAL in our thank
offerings for the good which we ourselves
enjoy.
The little capital OF the Ramsays had sensi-
bly, decreased, and they resolved to seek
cheaper lodgings, now that the expectations
had failed which had induced them to pay so
large rent. But Mrs. Drury had become in
some way attached to her dodgers, and was
lucky enough to find gentleman, a surveyor,
temporarily engaged in the neighborhood,
who wanted the use of room for two or
three hours one day in the week. and who
agreed to pay more than half the rent for the
accommodation. This arrangement afforded
help, but only for time. The money dwin-
died still, and then the Ransays had recourse
to the pawnbroker. One by one the few
superfuities they possessed were parted with,
until there was not sufficient to pay the small
amount of rent due on the following day.
"What is to be donef What is to become
of usi' asked the mother, despairingly.
"GOd has abandoned us.'
'Oh, do not say that We are being tried
very sOrely; but we have never done wrong,
and have His promise that the fatherless and
wi1nW ha anA chcll ha ~
His good time, said Martha, kneeling down
beside her mother.
"But when will that beY--when we are with
ont food Tomorrow we shall have no right
to stay here. No, there is nothing for US but
the-that dreadful place !"
''There are good and honest people even in
the workhouse, mother. Think that-think
anything but that God has deserted us.''
Mrs. Ramsay shook her head despairingly.
After few moments silence she said, "Some.
thing must be done to keep us here. Iwould
rather starve here than 60 into any Of the
miserable holes where We can find shelter. /
would rather Idle than be made pau per-"
"We have striven bravely, l sm sure
bravely to the last,' said Martha. at would
be sin to die by our own will, when any means
were left Us whereby we could live out our
allotted time'
The two women sat silent for some time, each
busy with her thoughts. They were aroused
ny hIS' DluIy gaming lIoLn Lno pOttOM VI the
staiTs:-
"Here's letter for Mrs. Ramsay"
"a letter ~ cried Martha, Fastening from
the room, her heart bea,ing rapidly with the
vague hope that some good had come to them
at their utmost need.
The letter had been long in finding them,
and it was indorsed with many addresses,
which the postman had been directed to try,
1t was very brief, and misspelt and came
from a country friend of Mrs. Ramsay, to say
that her sister Charlotte, whom all had
| thought long since dead, had returned TO her
native village, and had been inquiring after
| Mrs. Ramsay There was not much TO hope
from this; but, coming at this time, the almost
| despairlng women received it as promise OF
| deliveIance.
''Let us now tell our position to Mrs. Drury.
Show her this letter, and no doubt she will
help u.s." said Martha rapidly.
'StOp-nOt yet," replied Mrs. Ramsay.
| "Mrs. DTury is like the rest of the world, Pm
afraid. So long as we can pay, she is civil
| butt have not told you this-of late she hss
| been very different in her manner towards
e-suspectipg, no doubt, the truth, and pre-
| pairing us for the consciousness. 1t is more
necessary than ever that We stay here, that
| Charlotte may be able TO find us. She may
not be able or willing to help us, and we must
net leave here"
''Bnt the rent mother ~
"Must be paid. We have nothing OF our
own on which we can raise a shilling"
What she then proposed was mst with
such earnest objections from Martha, that IL
was evening before she gained her daug hter's
assent to adopt it.
Mrs Ramsay was right In her observation