Clarksville chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 186?-1872, 1871-09-30
THE UNEXPECTED FRIEND.
A TRUE STORY.

at must be my child!r said the
poor widow, wiping away the tears
which slowly trickled down her vast
ed cheeks. "There ia. no ~other re-
source, l am too sick to work, and
you surely cannot see me and your
little brother starve. Try and beg O
few shillinLs, and by the time that
is gone, may be better. Go, Henry,
my dear-I grieve to send you on
such an errand, but II must be done. -
The boy, a noble looking little fell
low of about ten years, started up,
and throwing his arms around his
mothers neck, left the house with
out word. He did not hear the
groan of anguish that was uttered by
his parent, as the door closed behind
him and it was well that he did
not, for his little heart was ready to
break without it. 1t was a by-street
in Philadelphia, and as he walked
the street to and fro on the sidewalk,
he looked first at one person and then
at another, as they passed, but no
one seemed to look kindly on him I;
and the longer he waited the faster
his courage dwindled away, and the
more difficult it was to muster cour-
age to beg. The tears were running
fast down his cheeks, but no one no
ticed them, or il they did, nobody
seemed to care; for although clean,
Henry looked poor and miserable,
and 1t IL common for the poor and
miserable to cry.
Everybody seemed in a hurry, and
the poor boy seemed quite in despair,
when at last he spied a gentleman
who seemed to be very leisurely taxi
ing morning walk. He was dressed
In black, wore three cOrnered hat,
and had face that was mild and be-
nignant as an angels. Somehow,
when Henry looked Mt him he felt all
his fears vanish Mt once, and instant
~ approaced him. His tears had
been flowing SO long that his eyes
were quite red and swollen, and his
voice trembled, but that was with
weakness, for he had not eaten for
twenty-four hours. AS Henry, with
a low, ALTERING voice, begged for
little charity, the gentleman stopped,
and his kind heart melted with com
passion us he looked upon the fair
countenance of the poor young boy,
and saw the deep flush that spread
over his face, and listened to the mod
est, humble tones which accompanied
his petition.
"You do not look like boy that
had been accustomed to beg his
bread" said he, kindly laying his
hand on the boys shoulder--''what
has driven you To this step?n
"Indeed," answered Henry, his
tears beginning to How afresh, din
deed, was no: born in this condition.
But the misfortunes of my father,
and the sickness OF my mother, have
driven me to the necessity now"
"Who Is your father?" Inquired the
with still more interest.
"My father was rich merchant
Of this city, but he became bondsman
for friend who soon after failed, and
he was entirely ruined. He could
not live after this loss, and In one
he died Of grief, and his death
was more terrible than any trouble.
My mother, my little brother, and
myself soon sunk into the lowest
depths of poverty. My mother has,
until now, managed to support her
self and my little brother by her la
bor, and have earned what could
by shoveling snow, and other
work that could find to do. But
night before last, mother was taken
very sick, and she has heen so much
worsen-(here the tears poured faster
than ever)-"I do fear she will die
| cannot think of any way In the
world To help her. l have not had
n a a n
not had the courage to go To any OF
mothers old acquaintances and tell
them that she had come To need char
iiy. l thought you looked like
stranger, sir, and something In your
face overcome my shame, AMI gave
me courage to speak to you. Oh +. sir,
DO nifty my poor motherW
The tears and the simple, moving