The Iowa plain dealer. [volume] (New Oregon, Howard County, Iowa) 1867-1895, 1872-12-20

wrctched looking houses inS the block.
Up four pairs of creaking, swaying
stairs he went, and then on arriving at
the garret; stopped low to avoid the
sloping roofand entered squalid, CON-
fortress room. The wind blew in at
the windows and the door, the snow
had drifted in at the same place, and
lay in little piles upon the floor.
A woman clothed in rags, sitting by
stray pallet in one corner of the room
arose as he entered, and looked at him
inquiringly.
EYES, he said "after some trouble. !"
"Thank the Lord for that - she
answered fervently. ''The poor boy
can die in peace at any rate"
81 ordered the things sent up. Is
he asleep. p
"unconscious-like,' answered the
woman. "His brain wanders a little
at times.''
A little morsel Of boy lay upon the
bed, the unm istakable mark of famine
in his face. ~--.-
The doctor bent over him, and look
ing into his face moment, said to the
woman standing silent at his side:
"His pain is over. He will proba-
bly, live until morning, but he will
never again be conscious"
The long night passed, day dawned,
and the boy still lived. The morning
wore on, and churchtime came Car
liagcs ratified up to the door of the
church, and discharged their loads Of
silks, satins and broadcloths. The
bowing ushers opened the doors of the
crimson-lined, luxurious pews, and the
congregation slowly assembled.
What do you know of charity ?"
thought the doctor. "Herc, not more
than twenty feet from the pulpit of
your church, poverty rcigus supreme;
yet not one of you all ever took the
trouble to look here for field of USE
fulness. You give a little from your
abundance, and plume yourselves upon
your charitable hearts; and, from that
poor women by the bed, you might
learn much. She checrfully gives what
he can-her time-in behalf Of boy
the never saw before, and--"
The organists of the church CON-
menccd the voluntary, and an excla-
nation from the woman brought the
doctor to the bed. The little sufferer
moved uneaslly; then a smile came up
on his wan face, far away look into
his eyes.
II hear music,' he murmurcd. Was
it the song Of the angels, or the strains
Of the grand organ, that he heard
Who can tell?
"lle is going fast,' whispered the
doctor. The woman was silently weep
ing, and covered her face with her
hands. And the first notes of "Come,
ye disconsolate, came to them from
the church. Again the fair-away look
came into the boys eyes, the smile up
on his lips; his thin, white hands STIR
red upon the bed, and. while the last
strains still fingered upon Tic air, he
turned his face to the wall and So
died.
And, as the man in threadbare
coat, and the woman in rags, knelt by
his side and prayed silently, in the
church the preacher, clothed in broad
cloth, arose and gave out his text ::
"Charity covereth multitude of sins. :"
Silks and satins rustled as their
wearcrs seated themselves to listen, and
the sermon went on. The sermon went
on; and, in glowing language, depicted
the want and wrechedness of the poor;
and the vast congregation listened in
rapt attention. Upon the speaker,
too, the subject took hold, and, by
degrees, his gestures became more
natural and less studied, his phrases
more earnest and less glittering.
So the sermon went on, and at last,
after thrilling appeal, the preacher
raised his jewcled hands, cast up his
eyes, and cried, as though in agony {:
''God help the poor!'
And then--well, then the service was
ended, and preacher and congregation
went home to their dinners, and left
Charity--entirely to the Almighty.
" LOUIS DoRR.
a CLERGYMAN, having made several
attempts to reform protligate, was at