The Portland daily press., 1869-09-15
A Grsen spot.

The late Noah Winslow was fond of telling
the following incident of his mercanSile life;
and never closed the narration but with
swimming eyes:
During the financial crash and crisis of
"htty seven" when heavy men were sinking
all around us, and banks were totterinp our
house became alarmed in view of the condi-
ton of its own afiairs. The partners-three
of us, of whom L was the senior-met in our
private Office for consultation. Our junior
had made careful inventory OF everything
OF bills receivable and bills pay able-and his
report was, that twenty thousand dollars OF
ready money, to be held through the pressure,
would save u.s. Without that we must 60 by
the board-the result was inevitable. L went
out on the street and among my friends; but
in vain. The amount of money we needed
was not to be had. Men who had gold would
not let it go, save upon solid security--and
the only security we could give was our word
and honor, for the many thousands due us
were as nothing in that hour.
Two whole days / strove and begged, and
then returned TO the counting room in de-
spair. / sat at my desk, expecting every mo-
ment to hear the voice OF our junior sounding
the terrible words, "Our paper is protes,edp
when a gentleman entered my apartment un-
announced. He was of middle age, with
frank, genial face; and though fancied there
was something familiar in his earnest, kindly
look, yet could not locate him, nor call him
to mind in any way.
"Mr. WinslOw," he said, taking a seat at
the end of my desk, II hear that you are in
need of money"
The very tace of the man inspired conf
dence, and told him how L was situated.
snake me your individual note for one
year, without interest, for twenty thousand
dollars and I will oiya n chacL pauahla
in gold, for that amount"
While l sat gazing upon him in speechless
astonishment, he continued:
"You don't remember me but remember
you. l remember when you were member
of the Superintendng School Committee Of
Bradford. l was boy in the village school.
My father was dead; my mother was poor,
and 1 was but shabbily clad child, though
clean. When our class came out to recite on
examination day, you asked the questions. /
fancied you would praise and pet the children
OF rich and fortunate parents, and pass me
by. l blundered and stammered, and quiver-
ed with shame. But it was not as l thought.
| In the end you passed by all the others, and
came to me. You laid your hand upon my
head, and told me had done well; and then
tolu me could do better still if would try.
You told me the way to honor and renown
was open to all alike-no one had free pass.
You tod me all l had to do was, to be resolv-
ed, and push an. That, sir, was the turning
point of my life. From that hour my soul
has aspired: and never reached great good
without blessing you in my heart, l have
prospered, and am wealthy: and now offer
yon but a poor return for the soul-wealth
you gave to me in that by-gone time"
II took the cheek" said Winslow, "and l
drew the the gold; and our house was saved.
And where, at the end OF the year" he added,
do you suppose found my note?"
We could not guess.
'sIn the possession" he said, with streaming
eyes, "of my little orphaned granddaughter
| Oh, hearts like that mans heart are what
brig heaven and earth nearer together
| N. Y. Ledger.