Sunbury American. [volume] (Sunbury, Pa.) 1848-1879, 1868-12-05

mamma everything. She is sick, you know,
and | ought to be home this minute; 1t was
so wrong of Inc to stop here. II you please,
sir, I'd much rather spend it for her" she
said, rapidly and incohercntly.
so you shall, dear Hurry home now, at
| any rate but first tell me where you live p
I'VE live in Carpenter street, No. 10.
And may keep the five dollars, may |, sr'''
| Certainly. You shall have doll, too.
will bring it myself tomorrow -"
"Oh! will 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,
| "llow all this brings back the past to me
! You have often heard me ask Of Hetty Moss.
suppose she is dead long ago" lie added,
with sigh, ''or married, which, for me, is
worse. But at sixteen she was the loveliest
/ creature have ever seen. never shall for
get he day, after my father and mother had
| been buried, that | went to see her, intend
ing, even then, to go away and try my for
! tunes, but, expecting that she would bid me
| God speed, and that her father, who had
( always been kind to mo, would do the same.
| All, Charley we must all, sooner or later,
! learn hard lessons; and learned my first
cruel one that afternoon. The old man met
! me himself. We'll, won't dwell on it. lie
/ declined to let me sce Hetty called me a
! 'b"g2ar's brat; worse, the child Of a bank
I rupt,' and babe me begone. Ever since then
have had less faith in human nature
( No, you haven't answered bis friend
| bluntly. You think you have. But old
fellow, you are too good to talk such non
sense, and, please God you'll be happy yet,
though not with Hetty."
My first task, now that am rich and
home at last answered the other, will be
to get on the trace, if | can, of poor Lucy.
After left America, | continued to write
for years, but never getting any answers,
finally gave it up. Christmas once over,
shall start for the old homestead but fear
all clue to her is lost"
Meantime, Lucy was hurrying home, feel.
ing herself a new being. In spite of the
snow, her bare feet her cold, numb fingers,
we question if there was happier child in
the city.
"Sec, mother! oh, c. she cried, when
she got home, with great sob of happiness,
1--WE shall have some Christmas, after ali; Il
gentleman gave it to me, and said it was five
dollars. Oh, mother! mother! I'm so hap.
py five whole dollars to spend for Christ
mas Why, | never heard of such a thing"
and Der face fairly glowed. isn't i. .a-a
miracle, mamma ~
My dear chi!l it seems like one' said
her mother, holding out her wasted hand,
and regarding the money.
The sad, sweet face lighted up with q
glow of thankiuness as she listened to the
little narrative.
"Ol, my darling :" she cried, ''it was sent
for shoes and stockings for your poor feet.
I r,,,lN ~ =
and prayed in agony to the dear Lord to
help us; and this is the answer"
But don't want the shoes, mamma, I
want Christmas,' said Lucy, with a d;sap-
pointed face. He told me to go in and
buy toys. We never dit have a Christmas,
and | wanted TO see how it seems"
Very soon there was loud knock at the
door and when it was opened, in came two
stout men with an enormous basket between
them, and put it down; and there it sat
looking up into the widows face, with great,
round eyes of potatoes and squashcs, and
bulging packages that told of plenty.
"Who is this for y asked Lucy's mother,
quito pale.
Its for a widow by the name of Petit,
grew
But who sent itl"
81 don't know who sent tits paid for,
that's all care about"
The door shut, the men had vanished.
ooh, mother! were dreaming-iust as
sure rs you live we're dreaming :" cried the
delighted child, dancing about the basket.
"Why, there's everything there why, the
Lord keeps working miracles, don't he Z"
Call Hetty Moss, child, said her mother,
sinking back in her chair, quite overcome
and presently Hetty came in, a staid, sweet
looking woman, not over thirty, with soft,
dewy blue eyes, and lips that always looked
smiling.
"Why, Lucy. you've been your mothers
good angel to day." isa, Hetty, stopping
over the basket and lifting the packages.
"Sure enough, here's Christmas for you :"
and she took an enormous turkey from the
basket.
There was another knock at the door and
a tall man entered, and stood there on the
threshold The sick woman looked up, and
a great cry, the cry of uncontrolled JOY, rang
through the room.
"Robert Robert y
The man was on his knees beside his sister,
his arms about her. kissing har eyes, her lips,
her forehead.
Explorations came brokenly. In spite of
his first disappointment, something kept
telling the stranger that "little Lucy" might,
after all, be his sisters child. He could not
! rest, therefore, until lie had come to see.
And Lucy told how she lad married, but
her husband and she had always been poor,
an6 how her husband had been killed at
! Antietam.
There is my guardian angel" said the
fearful woman, at last, pointing to Miss
Hetty; you may thank her that am yet
| alive"
For the FIRST time, now, the stranger saw
there was another woman in the room. There
was silence for the space of moment. Miss
lIetty Moss looked him straight in the eye,
her color fitting ard returning, the breath
coming quick through her parted lips.
ut is you, Hetty-but you do not remem-
Der me-" lie said, hesitatingly, yet appeal
ingly.
"Yes, | do, Robert" came with a quick
| gasp. oh, Robert ~ and as he rushed for
ward, her hands were in his, her head upon
| his shoulder.
Then came Hetty Moss story. She had
| ALWAYS been faithful to her love. Her father,
after some years, had died insolyent Hetty,
otter his death, left the village where she
had been born, and had come to ths grea.
city in search of employment. Here, by one
of those inscru.sble DEGREES of Providence
that the ignorant call chance, she had come
across Roberts sister, now widow, and
almost penniless. They had thrown in their
lot together. Hetty had skill with her
Il