The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1869-10-22
THE MATCH BOY.
BY HoRAr1o ALeER, IN.

Little Joe BOyntOn walked up and
! dd the city streets with small
baske: on his arm. From time to
time in a voice trembling with cold,
he cried. "Matches-buy any match
es !"
YeS it was a cold day. The last
days of November had come with
their icy breath to strip from the trees
their remaining foliage, and stiffeu
the earth which in summer had been
soft and yielding to the pressure. The
sky was dark and lowery, but the
faces ofthe numerous way farers we're
bright and cheerful. Well they
might be, for this was Thanksgiving
Day, and they we're huryIug home
from church to tables groaning with
plenty.
Little Joe stapding in doorway
saw them pass. Alas for him. he
had no part in the 81 rejoicing ;
there was no cheerful home, no plen-
tifuI table for him to go to 10 one
of the back streets, up a ricketty
staircase, there was da'k, cheerless
room, which served his mother and
himself as a Lome. She was now
sick, and during her illness the two
depended wholly upon what little Joe
could earn by vending matches
This was little enough, hardly sufi
Glen; to keep soul and body together.
This was the coldest morning of
the season thus far. Joe's ragged
jacket, aud thin, patched pants af-
forded but scanty protection against
the inclement blast. With blue face
and cbatteriug teeth he maintained
his post in the doorway, crying his
matches from time to time.
But nobody seemed inclined to buy;
all seemed to have something else TO
think of on that day. Then the stores
wers closed so that Joe was cut off
from his chance Ofpatronage. SiEce
morning he had sold but three pack
ages, and the profit on these amount
ed to but very little. He looked des-
Pairingly at his full basket.
I'm afraid I shant sell any more, ,
he thought; land yet I must, for We
hav'nt got anything to eat at home
So he cried once more, Matches,
matches -
A tall gentleman, holding by the
hand little girl of perhaps ten years
old, passed by. Matches ! won't
you buy some matches, sir % plead
ed Ettle Joe. coming forward and
looking up with an appealing glance.
''NO, my man, I've got plenty at
home"
Joe turned away disappointed.
Poor boy !' said the little girl,
looking back, for the two had instant
ly passed on, "he LOOKS cold"
boys are tougher than girls. "said
her father thoughtlessly. "No doubt
he's used to it,"
Il wonder whether he'll have a
good dinner to-day" continued Ro-
Sc, for this was her name.
"What makes you think so much
OF him. my little pet %
Because 1 think everybody ought
to be happy to-day, and he looked
very unhappy, poor boy"
Come. Rosa, you mustn't think o.
him any more, or you'll lose your
appetite; that will never do on Thanks
giving Day. See. we are almost al
hons. Now well soon see what
mothers got for US"
They were standing before hand
some house. the door was soon open,
and Rosa and her father entered.
The table was already laid in the
! dining hail. There was a glowing
fire in the grste, and Rosa ran in and
warmed her chilly fingers.
Il wish that little boy was here
said Rosa, "his fingers were a goot
deal redder than mine"
"What little boy 90 inquired heI
mother.
"a little match boy that papa anC
saw on our way home from churcl
just now; his clothes were so lhir