Gallipolis journal. [volume] (Gallipolis, Ohio) 1837-1919, 1874-06-04
"Yes."
"He is ILL is he notS"

/ account, and anxiety about Horace
e have rendered me almost sick also"
She might have added that whic
; l very well knew, as another caus
of her weakness, viz: the want @
appetizing, nutricious food, ant
: enough of it.
But where is HoraceF' l asked.
''He left me some months since
saying, Mother, there is no bread t,
spare under this roof / am thirteel
years old, almost fourteen, am stron!
and well; l must go away from
Louisville, and see if 1 cannot earl
some money for you, and brother, anC
the babe"
Here the mothers voice refused ut
terance, and she sobbed aloud.
'He kissed me, kissed William, anG
our little Lucy, said he remembered
his fathers words, and gave me {
} handful of silver, all he had, anG
} which 1 have since learned he solo
his clothes, and took poorer ones, tC
procure, and have not heard of him
|. since"
'Noble boyr' 1 exclaimed, invol
UNFAIRLY. But have you not written
to your father?"
"Often, but he has never replied tC
me. He is a proud, cold man, and
will keep his word"
''Do you not think that Horace will
return?"
''If he live know he will return, y
she replied, earnestly. 81 pray fol
him nightly, and / know that Horace
will not desert me in my extremity
Too many blessings have l to be
thankful for already, not to bear q
hopeful heart within my breast, and
to say Thy will, not mine, be done. "
II shall come again to see you"
stammered out, through my tears, and
laying my purse in her lap, l hurried
back to our hotel, where / cried for a
good long hour.
In vain did 1 try to tell my father
the widows story, my heart was too
full. But one thing 1 could do and
did do at once, and that was, to pre-
pare large basket of necessities and
nutritious food, and, with a slave, l
went personally to see it delivered
into the hands of the grateful woman.
She told me it was the first charity
she had ever received; that she really
believed she never could have begged,
unless she saw little William or Lucy
starving. How delighted was the
little boy at the delicacy and abun-
dance of the food, and even the babe
partook with eager appetite ofthe deli
cate preparations brought for it, and
the mother was vastly invigorated by
good and wholesome meal. can
not recall any little act of my life that
ever impaired so much actual salts
faction and pleasure to my heart, as
did this little affair. During the three
weeks that we remained at Louisville,
made daily visits to the young wild
ow, and having seen her immediate
wants supplied, l promised to see her
again on our return up the river from
Grand Gulf, whittier business now
called my father.
The wheels of time turned swiftly
on, and after a fortnight passed at
Grand Gulf, my. father found that it
was necessary for him to go to New
Orleans, and from thence, within a
couple of months, we went to the
British West Indies, and back to the
United States by the way of Havana
and New York. had not forgotten
my acquaintance, the widow in Louis
vile, but it had been out of my pow
er to communicate with her now for
nearly a year, when l once more
found myself travelling West, and so
eager was l to meet the widow and
know whether l might not once more
serve her at a critical moment that /
even left my father at the United
States Hotel, in Cincinnati, and an
ticipated his arrival at the Gait
House by whole day.
hastened to seek out my acquain-
tance and her young family. l found
the house easily; that was there, the
same as ever, but new occupants were
within; they knew nothing Of her
who had formerly lived there. They
could not even tell me where the own
er of the house resided-when his
rent was due, he came and collected
it they said, but where he lived they
knew not. A little further and more
minute inquiry, however, satisfied
me that Mrs. Hardwick and her chill
dren had left Louisville, but whittier
they had gone no one seemed to
know. My father, in compliance
with my earnest solicitings, strove,
but in vain, to unravel the mystery.
1 was depressed and unhappy. l
was curious to know the finale of her
history. l was anxious to do her, if
possible, still further kindness, by
rendering her pecuniary aid.
In our rowing life we once more
found ourselves in our favOrite home,
fashionable hotel in Boston, place
WHICH SccllS, ulOIc GHiH any OOnCI Oll
this side of the Atlantic, like home.
I had not forgotten the scene of my
first discovering the mother and
sleeping babe in Louisville, but the
event had been considered as one
that would never again recur forcibly
to my mind, when the merest chance
revived the whole matter, and unrav-
eled the mystery which had so
perplexed me in relation to the wild
ow's removal. Observing a child in
one of the principal streets at the
west part of the city, was led to
walk up and speak to him because of
the joyous-hearted laugh that rang
out from his happy lips; and when
he looked up into my face, l thought
that 1 had somewhere seen that face
before, young as it was. Memory,
with lightning-like speed, turned
back to the little sick boy l had seen