The Idaho world. [volume] (Idaho City, Idaho Territory) 1864-1918, 1873-04-24

her and she said, II hadn't any bust.
ness togive away 2 loaf of bread; but
there, now, I couldn't help II"
Then Sallie went to bed and slept
and dreamed of the hollow-cheeked,
famished lodger in the attic.
There was more bread to make next
| day. and / am not SIRE but that she
made an extra loaf ia expectation Of
another call from her neighbor; but'he
did not come, and in the course Of time
SALLY had enough to think Of without
leaving her own room. Matters did not
nrosper with the family. Little Lena
had the scarlet fever aud lay for a long
time at deaths door, and the work with
which the mother helped to fill the fam.
|ily purse was necessarily neglected, and
her customers grew angry and left her.
Then the baby died. Poor little baby!
The mother wept bitterly. The father
also longea 10 weep, although children
were expensive luxuries in that poor
household. Finally the last affection
fell upon the tailor-a felon on his
right thumb. ] i9ff/ 4 flA
There was an endlto ALL it seemed to
both. Nothing but the hospital and
the almshouse before them. The rent
was quite unpaid at last, and the tobac-
conist was quite in a fury. He called
to give him warning and a piece Of bis
mind. On the morrow out he should go,
neck and crop. The tailor said nothing.
The wife, woman-like, had her, word.
9Where shall be goT she asked.
ave havn't a penny in the world"
at is nothing to me where you 60"
said the landlord, $50 that | get you
out of my rooms. | want them for
honest people"
"We're unfortunate, but we never
mean to be dishonest" cried the wife.
Then her husband, in an angry word,
babe her hold her tongue.
Its all the same" he said, ave viii
go tomorrow. And now you go, Mr..
Landlord"
Then they were left alone, bemoaning
their hard fate There was absolutely
nothing to eat in the house.
Sally looked at her empty -four bar
rel, at her wretched family, and then
burst into tears.
-"It's no use trying any longer she
said "lf the Lord would only take us.
That is all ask"
She put the children to bed and sat
down upon chair drawn by force Of
habit to the hearth of any empty stove.
Her husband, between pain and anx-
iety, was less sane than mailman.
He paced the floor like a tiger, talk
ing to himself. The bit of talIow
burned low, the bitter wind ratified the
easement, the rain beat against it.
1--WE shall be ont in all that to-mor-
row. said the man. "We'vc not a
friend in the world"
We've got one friend, ] hope said
the wife.
"Who is he?" asked the tailor.
God" said the woman Maybe
He'll find way to help us. We haven't
been very bad, Sam"
Better to have starved before now,"
said the tailor 1--WE haven't any par
ticular right to expect miracles, that
know of, Hark! What's that"
"a knock" said his wife, and, trem-
bling lest her landlord should have re-
turned, opened the door. Without
stood the tall, gaunt figure of the
lodger in the attic
Hes come for some bread" thought
the woman; and amidst her own trouble
she grieved over the thought of refus-
ing his appeal.
He made none, however. This is
what he said:
Madam, awhile ago I took the lib
crty Of asking you for bread. Allow
me to return the loaf, with thanks"
So he vanished. A whole fresh loaf
lay in the woman's hand. She carried
it in.
"rhis is more than expected" she
said. "You sec God is good"
She lifted the side of the candlestick
a little. The light Aared up.
Now, mother" cried child's voice
from the bed, "Pm hungry"
Sally broke it in two. 1t parted with
singular ease. She gave a little cry.
1t had evidently been parted before
and joined together, and from the heart
a handful Of crumbs had been scooped
and in it lay little white packet,
Its fairy. breadp cried Sally, re-