The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1871-08-17
CA MI l. l. A.
A STORY FROM REAL LIFE.

Paul Smith was poor old man. He
had back room in the top of noisy
lodging house, where he slept at nights,
cheese, Tor Bologna sausage when he
could afford it), and from whence he
crept, as harmless and unnoticed as a
fly, down to the corner of the dingy
street, to the music shop of Carl Bert
mann, German settler somewhere in
Soho.
There he tinkered all day on broken
violins and other musical instruments,
never absenting himself for moment
save on Saturday afternoons, when he
went to the house of small tradesman,
to teach the piano to three or four very
stupid girls. Sundays, he curled HIM
self up in his den, and amused himself,
nobody knew how, until Monday morn
ing.
There are few certainties; he never
went to church, but he picked ragged
children from the pavement when they
fell near him, and gave them half-pen-
nies when he had any; shared his din
ner often with NANCY dirty cur, who
acted as a sort of escape-valve for the i'll
the street; and he reused Pat Ry an from
his midnight snooze in the gutter, many
a cold night, and literally carried him
home to Norah and the children.
AS for his honesty, as a neighbor re-
marked, 4" If he found five shillings in
the street, he'd wear out ten shillings
worth O strength and shoe-leather to
find the owner"
One cold night Paul was returning
from his work, with loaf of bread un-
der one arm, and violin under the
other, when at the street door he STUN
bled, and nearly fell over small object
crouched On the step.
"Bless usl What's this ?" cried Paul,
striving to regain his equilibrium.
"Only me, SIR" and the small object
stood up, and became very pale, thin,
and ragged child.
care you hurt, little girl!"
mo, sir"
"What are you doing out here in the
cold?"
Nothing"
"Why don't you go home ?"
81 amt got any!"
"Dear me where's your mother Z"
III QedVen
At this Paul was dumbfounded, and
seeing that great tears were stealing
down the child's wan face, he thrust the
violin under the arm, which had held
the bread, and putting the other round
the tiny figure, he said:
"Oh, I've got home-a real jolly
place. Come up and see."
And this is the way old Paul came to
have neat little housekeeper, and to be
buying calico gowns and shoes out of his
poor salary.
People wondered at the sight of this
bent old man, hitherto alone and un-
cared for, now walking daily to his work
with his hand upon the shoulder of the
odd, yet pretty-faced girl, looking at her
with honest pride Frightening his eyes,
and laughing as loud as she wherever
the joke came in. But old Paul looked
unconcerned, evaded the questions of
the curious, and learned to love nothing
better in the world than the little waif,
Camilla.
There were many, many days, when
rheumatism drew Paul up by the fire in
the old back attic, and drew the very
last penny out of the diiapidated old
purse; but brave little Camilla, never
forgetting how near death she had been
on that bitter night of their meeting al
ways found a word to ward off hunger
and courage to keep them both bright
until help came.
The winter of 1856 came in like lion
as many poor wretch well remembers
and with the first blast came Pauls ene'
my. He turned, one night, sad face