The Vinton record. [volume] (M'arthur, Vinton County, Ohio) 1866-1891, 1868-01-16
AN ANGEL.
BY MARY A. DENIS0N.

A little pauper boy sat
down OH the curbstone, and
tried to think. His feet were
bare, red and cold; but never
mind that. The chilly air pen
etrated his ragged garment;
but never mind that. He wan
ted to think. Who are these
people passing him, looking so
warm and comfortable? What
did it mean that they should
be so happy and cheerful, and
he so sad? None of them had
such heavy hearts; that he
was sure of. He looked up in
the cold blue sky. What was
it, and who lived up there?-
Somebody had said once that
God would take care Of him.
Where was God? Why didn't
he take care Of him? Oh, if
he could only see God for one
little minute, or the angels that
the good men told him of when
his mother died! Did folks
ever see God? Did they ever
see angels?
An organ-grinder came near
and took his stand. The melo-
dy he played lightened the lit
tie boys heart somewhat; but
it didn't make him less hungry.
He kept shivering in spite Of
the music, and he felt so alone,
sc despairing! Then the organ
grinder passed away; he never
needed the little child sitting
on the curbstone; he had so
many things to think of. The
carriages passed by, and the
carts and company Of sold
iers; but it was all dumb show
to him-.-he was trying to think,
with such a dull pain at his
heart. Presently three or four
coarse looking boys gathered
behind him and laughed at
each other. In another mo-
ment the youngest made a
thrust, and over went the poor
little homeless child into the
gutter. One scream, one sob
Of anguish as he gathered him
self up and looked after the
boys, now flying away with
shouts of mirth. Oh! how
cruel it seemed III them-how
cruel! The little hungry boy
walked slowly on, sobbing and
shivering. He didn't know
what he was walking for, or
why he was living. He felt
out Of place - a poor little for
lorn spirit that had lost his
way-a bruised reed that any
one might break - a little heart
So tender that look was an
guish, how much more a blow.
The little boy stood at last
near the corner of the, street.
An apple stand, at which he
ga2ed with longing eyes, not
far of, was tended by a cross
looking old man. There were
cakes on the stand, and the
poor little mouth of the home
less child watered as he saw
one boy after another deposit
his penny, and take his cake.
He had no penny, and though
there was hunger in his eyes,
the looking old man new
er offered him a morsel.
The tempter came. The old
mans back was turned. A
vile boy at his side at the
side Of the homeless child
nudged his elbow,
"You take one," he whisper
ed; "Tll give gou half"
The little child. gazed at him
steadily. He saw something
in the bleared eyes that made
him shrink; something that set
his heart to beating.
81 tell YOU to hook one" whis-
pered the boy. 81 won't tell,
and we'll go away and eat it,"
81 don't want to steal" said
the homeless child.
ooh, you fooll" muttered the
the brutal tempter, and smote
him in his eyes, his heavy hand
dealing a blow that sent the
poor little child against the
wall, his whole frame culver
, ing with anguish. The terri
Bile blow had almost blinded
him fora moment. A sob came
) up in his throat.
"Oh! what have | done to be
,, treated so? There never, nev.
er was a God, or he would not
let me suffer so, and that be
cause / refused to be wicked
: | don't believe that ever a man
in his deadliest bereavementS
suffered more than that little
/, child. His. heart was literally
swelling with grief, and thougl