The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1868-08-04

tSpecleS OF employment. She found none.
lStill it was necessary for her to have foed.
4 One day passed, on which she tasted
nothing. The night that followed was
fsleepless. The next day was again pass
led without food, and the poor girl was
\ forced into the resolution Of begging.
4 "She covered her head with her moth
ter's veil, the only heritage she had re-
|csiyed, and stopping SO as to simulate old
llage, she went into the street. When
there, she held out her hand. Alasl the
sIhand was white and youthful and delicatel
Thus concealed, the poor girl held out
her hand to young woman who passed
lone more happy than herself, and ask
ed, "a sou-a single sou to get bread" "
The petition was unheeded. An old man
passed. The mendicant thought that the
i experience of the distresses Of life might
have seftened one like him. but she was
in error. Experience had only hardened,
mot softened, bis heart.
4 "The night was cold and rainy, and the
lhour had come when the night police ap.
peared to keep the streets clear Of all
lmendicants and suspicious characters. At
this period the shrinking gitl took cour-
Iage once more to hold out her hand to a
ipasser by. 1t was young man. He
1stopped at the silent appeal, and diving
Unto his pockets pulled out piece Of
money, which he threw to her, being ap-
4 parently afraid to touch thing so mise
lrable. Just as he did this, one Of the
j police said to The girl.
"Ah, I have caught you, hayeR You
fare begging. To tho Office with you
come alongI'
HThe young man interposed. he took
hold hastily of the mendicant, of her
whom he had, before seemed afraid to
touch, and addressing himself. to the po-
lliceman, said, reprovingly: This woman
! is not beggar. She is one whom 1
know But, sir said the officer. 4
tell you she is an acquaintance of mine,
repeated .he young stranger. Then turn
ing to the girl, whom he took for an old
land feeble woman, be continued:
"Come along, my good dame, and per-
nit me to see you safely tothe end of the
tstreet" Giving his arm to the unfortu-
mate girl, he then led her away, saying,
Here is piece Of ahundred sous. 1t is
| all / naye-take it, poor woman
"The crown of q hundred sous passed
from your hand into mine, continued the
lady, ssand as you walked along support
ing my steps, / then, through my vail, dis
ltinctly saw your face and figure
my fgurep' exclaimed Frederick in
amazement.
aYes, my friend your figure, returned
Ibis wife. ''It was to me you gave aims
on that night. 1t was my life-my hon.
lor, perhaps-that you then saved"
/ aYou, . mendicant-you SO young, SO
beautiful, and now SO rich" exclaimed
Frederick.
aYes, my dearest husband, replied the
lady; s.I have, in my life, received aims
once only-and from you; and those aims
have decided ny fate for life.
s0n the day following that miserable
night, an old woman, in whom had in
spired come sentiments Of pity, enabled
| me to enter as seamstressin respectable
house. CheerfulHess returned to me with
labor. / had the good fortune to become
la fayorite with the mistress whom serv-
ed; and, indeed, / did my best, by unwea-
ried diligence and care, to merit her fa-t
vor. She was often visited by people in.
| high life. One day Sir james Melton, IAN
Englishman of great property, came to-
| our establishment along with party of
ladies. He returned again. He spoke
with my mistress, and learned that I was
lof good family; in short, learned my
whole history The result was, that he
sat down by my side one day, and asked
| me plainly if I would marry him.
"Marry you'll" cried 1, in surprise,
"Sir James Melton was man Of sixty,
tall, pale, and feeble looking. In answer
Ito my exclamation oe establishment, he
.said: Yes. ask if you will be my wife.
II am rich, but have no comfort-no hap
tpiness. Ny relations seem to yearn to
see me in the grave. ! have ailments
which require degree of kindly care
that is not to be bought from servants
! have heard your story, and believe you
to be one who will support prosperity as
well as aiyersity. / make my proposal
sincerely, and hope you will agree to it.
aAt that time, Frederick, | loved you;
I had seen you but once, but that once
Twas too memorable for me ever to forget
lit, and something always insinuated to
me that We were to pass through life to.
lgether. At the bottom Of my soul |
believed this. Yet every one around me
pressed me to accept the offer made to
me, and the thought struck me that [
might one day make you wealthy. At
length my main objections to Sir James
Melton's proposal lay in disinclination
to make myself the instrument of ven-
geance in Sir James hands against rela-
Itiyes whom he disliked without good
grounds. The objection, when stated.
ionly increased his anxiety for my consent,
and finally, under the impression that it
would be, after all, carrying romance the
length of folly to reject the advantageous
.Isettlement offered to me, consented to
i Sir James proposal.
"That part Of the story, Frederick, is
really like fairy tale. l, poor orphan
and penniless, became the wife of one oi
the richest baronets in England. Dress
Led in silks, and sparkling jewels, I could
now pass through the very streets where,
la few months before, [ stood in the rain
land darkness--a mendieant.'
j aHappy Sir Jamesl" cried NJ. de Ia
Tour, at this part of the story. "He
could prove bislove by enriching you!"
4 aHe was happy" resumed the lady