Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1873-01-22


times a week, and other happy things that
came in his dark life. Many Of them
linked themselves to Aunt Mary. Were
she still living, we should pray Z" God bless
her !" But she Is gone to her reward.
For two years he had lived around, tossing
about amid the bilows Of humanity, now
here, now there. He had learned how to
take care Of himself, growing prcmaiurely
old. His socks were hicely durncd, aud he
announced in businC ss-lke way that he
gave an old woman twenty-five cents for
washing aud darning half dozen pair
The man with whom he lived was going to
lodge aud feed him all winter, if he would
split wood. lie guessed that man would
be surprised when he saw his clothes-for
he was fast clothing himself.
" | made my father give me these sus-
penders morn year ago" said he buck
Ing them up on his new trowscrs. " He
came round, and | know'd him, and he
give me lots o things not to tell-oh but
he'd been put through if they'd caught
him"
&" Is the man with whom you live a Chris.
tan o.
"Well 4 guess not watched and he
didu't 60 to church last Sunday"
"Did you 60 ?"
" No. Fact is | hadn't any clothes"
There was a moments silence, and then
stopping short he said,
" Look here now-I prayed for these
ere last night"
Hold on, Oliver, that's a little too
strong"
"Well, did now"
let the matter drop then, and took out
a little Testament while the boy, now
dressed and washed, with nicely combed
hair, stood watching me.
Can you read ~
Aunt Mary taught me.
Read there"
1t was the twenty-seventh chapter Of
Matthew, tweuty-seventh verse. The boy
read easily and distinctly, till he came to,
" aud they crucifed Him" Here be sud
denly stopped, and asked,
What does that mean ?"
1t is strange what children learn in some
Sunday-seboos. They will answer ques-
tions, which you hardly expect them to un-
derstand, and be entirely ignorant of some
Of the greatest truths Of the Gospel. His
ignorance was painful, but the question aud
tie earnest eyes that looked into mine
went right to my heart.
Aud so told it, the old, old story of
the love Of Jesus, while the boy sat by in
deep attention, and two jewels lay on his
cheeks-two tear-drops offered up in re-
turn for his Masters love.
"Was it Him, sir, sent me up here to
get these clothes, dye think 7'
Yes, indeed :" and then | told him
how Jesus had watched aud cared for him
how he felt panied by his sins and think
ing it a suitable time, chided him gently
about what had seemed to me the only sus-
picious thing in his story-his prayer for
clothes. The tears still gistened in his
eyes, aud the solemn face turned up to mine
as he spoke seriously
But really did, sir | wanted so to
get Gxed up, have friends and 90 10 church
and Suuday-school"
1t was enough. | trusted him Would
not you have done so too ?
shall we not then thank Him, that he
has answered your prayer ?"
A little solemn figure knelt by me with
bowed head and clasped hands, while |
prayed to his Father and mine.
Now will not you pray ?"
knew his Aunt Mary used to say that
for it seemed to be so natural to him. And
slowly he repeated the Lords Prayer
"But do not you want to speak Of the
clothes ?"
Don't know how came from the
kneeling boy.
Do it as you'd thank me.
30 God thank you for these clothes
you've given me. Amen"
Reader, think you the angels were not
hushed to listen to that poor boys prayer ?
We rose from our knees, and the Testa-
meut found its way into his pocket with
promise from him it should be read every
night
He did feel lawful bad" when he lost
the Bible Aunt Mary give him;" he left
it at a place he stayed.
Now it was time to put something better
than cake and crackers into the little body,
which We had clad so warmly and so we
went back to the ladies'.
Oliver walked up and thanked them, and
they led him away to the kitchen, where
the kind landlords wife gave him glori-
GUS meal
Soon after we parted. He had swung
his box over his shoulder-remarking
proudly, that he had made that box, ev-
cry bit of it," taking the bundle of clothes
in his hands, aud there he stood. Could
that be the boy that knelt so despondingly
over my boots few hours before The
old slouched hat was the same, but all else
was changed. Even that hat seemed to
have caught new spirit. 1t had stopped
hanging despairingly over his face and
seemed at least trying to be jaunty. The
boots shone like mirror IA good adyer-
tisement you know y and the old shoes lay
over the fence on the rubbish heap. He
had thrown them away there after looking
at them tenderly, and crying after them as
they fell in among the rubbish.
There you go, old fellows, and the dol
lar | paid for you"
Our lives had touched; they might nev-
er again. lie had my address IN his pock-
et aud | promise from him never to come
to the city untik he was man, and had
made his fortune.
You wont forget all have told you ~
Never, sir, good-by."
Good-by, Oliver, God bless you -
viii you not say the same, dear reader,
aud pray for the little boy, homeless and
friendless amid the hills of New England
This is no fiction, but plain, truthful story
of what actually happened. Mothers, aud
kind Aunt Marys of other little boys, when
you teach them who their best Friend is
remember the story of Oliver Rich, and
how he was not forsaken by that Friend
who teaches each to trust" When my
father and my mother iorsakc me, then the
Lord will take me up"
Hints for Young Mothers.