The New Orleans crescent. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1866-1869, 1869-02-07

him."
"what is he about all day. them"
"The streets,D she answered. "I don't know
as he's ever done anything he oughtn't to, but he
came home once in q fright, and breathless with
running, that thought he'd ha tainted. II only
could get him into place pa,,rlzow NJ ~
"Do you live here?" be asked.
eyes, sir; do.p1 lA1..A
At the moment q halfbestal sound below, &C.
compapied by uncertain footsteps, announced the
arrival Of drunken brickayer.
"Come into my room. sir, till he's gone up
there's no harm in him when he's sober, but be
amt been sober for week now"
Stephen obeyed; and she, taking key from
led him into aI room to which his back psrior was
paradise. She offered him the only chair 10 the
room, and took her place on the edge OF the bed,
which showed Q clean though much worn patch
a shakedown in the corner. The room was not
untidy, though the walls and floors were not clean
indeed, there were not in it articles enough to
make II untidy with /. -
"Where do you 90 on Sundays!" asked Ste'
"Nowheres amt got nobody" she added,
with smile, "to take me nowheres."
"What do you do, then!n
sers. You see they're only shoddy, and as fast
as / patch 'em in one place they're out 10
another"
!" But you oughtn't to work Sundays"
give heard tell of people as say you oughtn't
to work of Sunday but where's the differ when
you've got brother to look after' He amt got
~ But you're breaking the fourth command
ment and you know where people go that do
that. You believe In hell, suppose"
always thought that was bad word"
"To be sure But it's where you'll go If you
break the Sabbath"
care what comes of me If / could only save that
boy"
I" What do you mean by saving him9'
keep him out of prison, to be sure. shouldn't
mind the workus myself, If could get him into q
a place was her heaven, prison her hell.
Stephen looked at her more attentively. No
one who merely glanced at her could help seeing
could help thinking her nicelooking at least, all
IN shabby cotton dress and black shawl as she
was. II was only the "penury and pine |" that
kept her from being beautiful. Her features
were both regular and delicate, with an
anxious mystery about the thin tremulous
lips, and beseecbing look, like that Of
an animal, In her fine eyes, hsZy with the
trouble that haunted her mouth. Stephen had
the good sense not to press the Sabbath ques
ton, and by degrees drew her story from her.
Her father had been matchmaker, but, giving
way to drink, had been, ss far back as she could
remember, entirely dependent on her mother, who,
by charing and jobbing. managed to keep the
family alive. Sara was then the only child, but
within few months after her fathers death her
mother died in giving birth to the boy. With her
last breath she commended him to his sister.
Sara had brought him up-how, she hardly knew.
he had been everything to her., The child that
her mother had given her was ali her thought.
Those who start with the idea that "the people
with naught are naughty" whose eyes are
offended by rsgs, whose ears cannot distinguish
between vulgarity and wickedness, and who think
the first duty is care for self, must be excused
from believing that Sara Coulter passed through
sll that had been decreed for her, without losing
her simplicity and purity. But God is In the back
evidently e1 thsn"in BeIsrsvis. That which was
the burden Of her life-namely, the care of her
brother-was her salvation. After hearing her
story, which he had to draw from her, because
she had nosimpuse to talk about herself, Stephen
went home TO turn the matter over In his mind.
The next Sunday, after be had had bis dinner,
he went out into the same region, and found him.
self ct Ssrs's door. She was busy over gar.
ment of Chsrley's, who was sitting on the bed
with half a loaf In his hand. When be recognized
Stephen he jumped down, and would have rushed
from the room, but changing his mind, pos
sibly because of the condition Of his lower limbs,
he turned, and springing into the bed, scrambled
under the Counterpart and drew 1t over his head.
81 am sorry 70 see you working on Sunday"
Stephen said with an emphasis that referred TO
their previous conversation. r-r
"You would not have the boy 60 naked? " che
returned, with again touch of indignation. She
had been thinking hew easily man OF Stephens
social position could get him place If he would.
Then recollecting her manners, she added, 81
should get him better clothes II he had place.
Wouldn't you like TO get place now, ChsreyW
eyes," said Charley, from under the counter.
pane, and began to peep at the visitor.
He was not an Ill looking boy-only roguish to
q degree. His eyes, ss black as bis sisters, but
only half as big. danced and twinkIsd with mis- u.
ragged GLASS, but even Of rags he had not at the
moment the complement necessary for admttance.
He left them. therefore, with q few common
places of religious phrase, falling utterly mean.
ingless. But he was not one to confne his minis.
trstions to words-he was an honest man. Before
the next Sunday II was clear TO him that he
could do nothing for the soul Of Sara until he had
taken the weight of her brother ofit.
When he called the next Sunday the same vision
precisely met bis view. She might have been sit
ting there ever since, with those wonderfully
patched trousers in her hands, and the boy beside
her, gnawing at his lump OF bread. But many .
long seam had passed through her fingers since
with sewing machine, whence arose the possibility
of patching Charley's clothes, for the overseer
granted her cutting or two now aud then.
After little chat Stephen put the question. III
find place for Charley barley, viii y, you go to ProV
civil 20 anywhere you please, Mr.. Archer, y
she answered, looking up quickly, with flushed
face. She would have accompanied him to any
casino In London Just readily; her sole thought
was to keep Charley out of prison. Her father
had been In prison once TO keep her mothers
child out OF prison was the grand object Of her
life. -.rsE ~ sal.t .asa ssrrf., -
as'wel,n he resumed, with some hesitation, for he
had arrived ct the resolution through difficulties
whose fogs yet fingered about him, if be will be
| an honest careful boy. / will take him myself.
"Charley Charley 20 cried Sara, utterly neg.
lectful of the source Of the benefsction; and rs
| ing, she went to the bed and Rugged him.
Don't, sara ~ said Charley, petulantly. 81
| don't want girls to squash me. Leave go, say.
| You mend my trousers, and I'll take care OF
myself.p .,-r -...5 .r.rr"T
1.-THE little wretch ~ thought Stephen.
| Sara returned to her seat, and her needle went
| almost as fast as her sewing machine. A glow
| had arisen now, and rested on her pale cheek /;
Stephen found himself staring at kind of trans
| fguration, back from the ghostly to the human.
| His admiration extended itself TO her deft and
slender fingers, and there brooded until his con-
| science informed him that be was actually admir-
| ing the breaking Of the Sabbath, whereupon he
rose. But all the time he was about amongst the
rest of his people. his thoughts kept wandering
back to the desolate room, the thankless boy. and
| the ministering woman. Before leaving, however,
| he had arranged with Sara that she should bring
| her brother TO the shop the next day.
The awe with which she entered Ii was not
shared by Charley, who was never ripe for any,